,  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


WITCH   WINNIE 
IN  VENICE 

AND 

THE  ALCHEMIST'S  STORY 

BY 

ELIZABETH   W.  CHAMPNEY 

AUTHOR  OF  "WITCH  WINNIE,"  "WITCH  WINNIE'S  MYSTERY," 
"WITCH  WINNIE  IN  HOLLAND,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

HURST  &  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1897,  BY 
DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  ign.  BY 
A.  L.  CHATTERTON  COMPANY 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAOS 

I.  JUST  A  LITTLE  MISTAKE  IN  THE  BEGIN- 
NING,   1 

II.  A  CHILD'S  DREAM   OF  VENICE,  ...     11 

III.  FIRST   DAYS  IN  VENICE,        ....    27 

IV.  THE   CLOSED   DOOR, .        .        . "     .        .        .38 
V.  ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.     .    54 

VI.  ANGELO    ZANELLI'S    SECRET,        ...    82 

VII.  THE    GOTHIC   PALACES, 95 

VIII.  ON  THE  LAGOONS, ".Ill 

IX.  THE    VENETIAN  PAINTERS,  .        .        .        .139 

X.  A  FESTA, 166 

XL  VIOLANTE— TWO  ON  A  BALCONY,     .        .  182 
XII.  A    RAY    OF   LIGHT— THE    RENAISSANCE 

PALACES .202 

XIII.  A  MODERN   ALCHEMIST, 229 

XIV.  C.ESAR    BORGIA'S    REVENGE,        .        .        .246 
XV.  SHREDS  AND  PATCHES,  .       .       .       .        .267 


2128830 


INTRODUCTION. 


"  SHREDS  and  Patches"  is  the  title  of  the 
last  chapter  of  the  present  volume ;  and  the 
author  is  aware  that  the  entire  book — with  its 
scraps  of  history  "  cut  out  of  whole  cloth  ;"  its 
numerous  quotations  ;  its  old  characters  famil- 
iar in  former  stories  ;  its  personal  impressions, 
theories,  and  moral  reflections  ;  its  endeavor  to 
be  instructive  and  yet  amusing ;  and  all  this 
held  together  by  the  most  transparent  film  of 
plot — is  but  "  a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches."  . 

My  only  apology  is  that  this  is  exactly  the 
process  employed  in  the  manufacture  of  the 
finest  point  applique  lace.  It  is  the  work  of 
many  hands.  The  tiny  flowers  may  have  been 
cut  from  other  and  more  antique  specimens. 
They  are  "  applied"  on  a  web  of  cheaper  ma- 
chine-made net,  or  united  by  brides  or  tiny 
lacets,  and  bordered  more  or  less  elaborately, 
while  the  spaces  between  the  sprigs  and  flow- 
ers were  filled  in  with  various  kinds  of  stitches. 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

Then  when  the  pattern  is  complete  comes  the 
more  mechanical  and  laborious  task  of  uniting 
all  together  by  a  stitch  called  ''assemblage" 
or  "  fine  joining." 

This  assemblage  has  been  my  work,  and  I 
have  not  found  it  tedious,  for  the  applique 
flowers,  the  work  of  other  hands  which  I  have 
introduced,  have  been  the  part  that  I  have 
loved  and  admired  ;  and  they  have  seemed  to 
fit  themselves  into  new  patterns,  so  that  it  has 
needed  no  ingenuity  of  mine  to  arrange  them. 
And  so  I  offer  you  the  finished  web,  making  no 
claim  for  originality,  no  other  plea  for  the 
heterogeneous  character  of  the  work. 

The  historical  background  which  I  have 
taken  is  that  of  the  Italian  Renaissance,  on  a 
few  of  whose  brilliant  names  I  have  endeavored 
to  flash  a  side  light : 

"  The  epoch  ends,  the  world  is  still, 
The  age  has  talked  and  worked  its  fill, 
The  famous  orators  have  shone, 
The  famous  poetfl  sung  and  gone, 
The  famous  men  of  war  have  fought, 
The  famous  speculators  thought, 
The  famous  players,  sculptors  wrought, 
The  famous  painters  filled  their  wall, 
The  famous  critics  judged  it  all. 


INTRODUCTION.  Vii 

And  in  the  after  silence  sweet 

Now  strifes  are  hushed,  our  ears  doth  meet 

Ascending  pure  the  bell-like  fame 

Of  this  or  that  down-trodden  name, 

Delicate  spirits  pushed  away 

In  the  hot  press  of  the  noon  day. 

On  that  wide  plain,  now  wrapt  in  gloom, 

Where  many  a  splendor  finds  its  tomb, 

Many  spent  fames  and  fallen  mights, 

The  ohe  or  two  immortal  lights 

Rise  slowly  up  into  the  sky 

To  shine  there  everlastingly." 

Such  were  many  of  the  Venetian  painters  of 
this  period,  such  the  gentle  architect  Sanso- 
vino.  That  the  student  may  have  a  distinct 
idea  of  the  chronological  sequence  of  events,  I 
give  here  the  dates  of  birth  and  death  of  some 
of  the  personages  mentioned  in  the  story,  and 
the  beginning  and  end  of  the  pontificates  of 
three  of  the  Popes  : 

Giovanni  Bellini born  1437,  died  1516. 

PalmaVecchio "  1480,  "  1528. 

Giorgione "  1477,  "  1511. 

Titian "  1477,  "  1576. 

Tintoretto "  1518,  "  1594. 

Paul  Veronese "  1528,  "  1588. 

Sansovino "  1479,  "  1570. 

Bembo "  1470,  "  1547. 


Till  INTRODUCTION. 

POPES. 

Alexander  V.  (Rodrigo  Borgia) from  1492  to  1503, 

Julius  II.  (De  Rovere) "     1503  "  1513. 

Leo  X.  (Giovanni  de  Medici) "     1513  "  1522- 

The  old  alchemist  Giovanni  Zanelli  is  entirely 
a  fictitious  character  ;  and  the  plot,  supposed 
to  have  been  planned  for  his  rescue  by  Titian 
and  his  friends,  has,  of  course,  no  foundation  in 
history. 

The  briefest  residence  in  Venice  sets  one  to 
dreaming  of  the  olden  time.  It  is  all  so  real, 
so  present.  There  is  no  place  where  the  pres- 
ent is  so  unreal,  the  actual  so  out  of.  place. 
The  old  senators  look  out  immortally  upon  us 
from  the  canvases  of  Titian,  and  seem  to  re- 
proach us  for  taking  liberties  with  their  city 
and  invading  their  palaces.  The  very  hotels 
were  the  homes  of  the  illustrious  and  noble  of 
other  days.  The  Royal  Hotel  Danieli,  on  the 
Rlva  Degli  Schiavoni,  much  frequented  by 
English  and  Americans,  was  built  by  the  Dan- 
dolos  in  the  fourteenth  century,  and  was  suc- 
cessively the  palace  of  the  Mocenigos,  the  Ber- 
nardi,  and  the  Nani.  Our  own  hotel,  opposite 
the  Salute,  was  the  ancient  home  of  the 
Zuchelli ;  and  every  tourist  has  a  sense  of 


INTRODUCTION,  IX 

proprietorship  (at  least  as  far  as  having  once 
been  its  guest)  in  some  palace  on  the  Grand 
Canal.  But  the  author  imagines  her  friends  to 
have  more  than  a  tourist's  transitory  interest 
in  Venice — in  her  art,  her  buildings,  her  his- 
tory, and  her  people.  And  so  she  invites  her 
reader  (as  Lord  Houghton  did  his),  and  as  An- 
gelo  might  have  asked  Tib,  to  see  the  city. 

"  Not  with  the  fancy's  flashing  play, 

The  traveller's  vulgar  theme, 
Where  following  objects  chase  away 
The  moment's  dazzling  dream — 

"  Not  thus  art  thou  content  to  see 

The  city  of  my  love, 
Whose  beauty  is  a  thought  to  me 

All  mortal  thoughts  above  ; 
And  pass  in  dull,  unseemly  haste, 

Nor  sight  nor  spirit  clear, 
As  if  the  first  bewildering  taste 

Were  all  the  banquet  here  1 

"  When  the  proud  sea  for  Venice'  sake 

Itself  consents  to  wear 
The  semblance  of  a  land-locked  lake 

Inviolably  fair — 
Surely  may  we  to  similar  calm 

Our  noisy  lives  subdue, 
And  bare  our  bosoms  to  such  balm 

As  God  has  given  to  few. 


INTRODUCTION. 

"  Thou  knowest  this,  thou  lingerest  here, 

Rejoicing  to  remain ; 
The  plashing  oars  fall  on  thy  ear 

Like  a  familiar  strain. 
Come  out  upon  the  broad  Lagoon, 

Come  for  the  hundredth  time, 
Our  thoughts  shall  make  a  pleasant 

:  )ur  words  a  worthy  rhyme  ; 
And  thickly  round  us  we  will  set 

Such  visions  as  were  seen 
By  Tizian  and  by  Tintoret 

And  dear  old  Giambellin." 


WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

JUST  A  LITTLE  MISTAKE  IN  THE  BEGINNING. 

F  course  it  was  all 
Winnie's  fault,  only 
one  of  her  whimsi- 
cal pranks,  but  it 
brought  •  about  a 
long  train  of  misun- 
derstandings which 
might  have  separat- 
ed forever  two  very 
congenial  people, 
had  not— but  really 
one  cannot  tell  an 

entire  story  in  a  single  sentence. 

While  Winnie  was  still  in  Holland,  Adelaide, 

who,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  married  Pro- 


2  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

fessor  Waite,  arrived  with  her  husband,  and 
persuaded  Winnie  to  spend  the  winter  with 
them  in  Venice,  where  Tib,  who  had  laid  by  a 
little  money  of  her  own  earning,  agreed  to  meet 
them.  The  four  took  the  apartemente  sig- 
norile,  or  main  floor  in  a  palace  on  the  Grand 
Canal.  Professor  Waite  had  received  an  order 
to  prepare  some  mural  paintings  for  a  public 
building  in  America,  and  the  lofty  ball-room  of 
the  palace  made  an  excellent  studio  in  which  to 
paint  these  great  canvases.  They  had  timed 
their  meeting  so  exactly  that  they  were  scarce- 
ly settled  before  Tib  arrived,  and  all  began  to 
work  with  enthusiasm.  Winnie  and  Tib  had 
rooms  whose  balcony  looked  up  toward  the 
Rialto  Bridge  and  down  toward  the  Church  of 
the  Salute.  Professor  Waite  was  as  kind  and 
helpful  as  in  the  old  days  ;  and  they  took  their 
studies  to  him  for  criticism.  They  made  fre- 
quent gondola  trips  to  interesting  spots  for 
sketching,  and  Adelaide  was  always  ready  to 
accompany  them  to  the  historic  places  which 
they  knew  so  well  already  from  report,  but 
which  they  were  eager  to  see  with  their  own 
eyes.  There  was  so  much  to  explore,  so  many 
new  sensations  waiting  on  every  hand,  that  it 


A  LITTLE  MISTAKE  IN  THE  BEGINNING.      3 

was  some  little  time  before  Winnie  set  her 
palette  ;  but  Tib,  who  grudged  every  moment 
for  her  art,  and  felt  that  all  these  glorious  hours 
of  privilege  were  fast  stealing  away,  began  to 
work  from  the  outset.  There  was  one  weekly 
interruption  into  which  she  was  drawn,  out  of 
deference  to  Adelaide.  The  Waites  speedily 
gathered  about  them  a  coterie  of  friends,  and 
every  Thursday  afternoon  the  great  canvases 
were  moved  back,  rugs  were  spread  down,  and 
there  was  an  informal  reception.  The  friends 
who  came  were  chiefly  members  of  the  resident 
American  colony,  with  an  occasional  passing 
tourist,  and,  as  they  became  better  acquainted, 
a  sprinkling  of  the  Italian  element. 

Tib  rebelled  against  this  evening  "  wasted" 
in  society.  "  I  did  not  come  to  Venice  to  see 
people,  but  to  see  Venice,"  she  said  to  Win- 
nie. "  I  would  rather  have  a  building  like  the 
Doge's  Palace  talk  to  me  than  to  listen  to  the 
twaddle  and  commonplaces  of  ordinary  so- 
ciety." 

"  That  old  ball-room  looks  as  if  it  could  say 
a  thing  or  two  51  it  were  so  minded,"  Winnie 
had  replied.  "  Sit  on  the  divan  in  the  corner 
and  study  the  frescoes  on  the  ceiling  and  the 


4        WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

old  portraits  on  the  wall.  They  *  could  a  tale 
unfold,'  and  perhaps  they  will  to  you." 

It  was  here  that  Winnie  had  left  her  for  a 
few  moments  on  their  first  Thursday,  seated 
quite  by  herself,  listening  with  amused  scorn  to 
the  mingled  stream  of  three  conversations 
which  drifted  in  upon  her,  and  quite  unaware 
that  a  young  man  in  one  of  the  groups,  whom 
a  vivacious  girl  was  endeavoring  to  entertain, 
was  regarding  her  with  interest. 

"  What  a  picture  that  girl  with  the  Madonna 
face  makes,  with  her  calm,  statuesque  profile 
outlined  against  those  Oriental  hangings  !"  he 
said  to  his  companion. 

The  girl  had  just  made  a  lively  remark  which 
he  had  entirely  missed,  and  she  looked  at  Tib, 
a  little  piqued  by  his  admiration,  and  replied 
doubtfully  :  "  Yes  ;  but  don't  you  think  it  a  lit- 
tle affected  to  assume  that  absorbed,  beatific 
air  when  one  is  in  company  ?  She  looks  a  trifle 
posed,  it  seems  to  me — as  though  she  were 
quite  conscious  of  the  effect  she  is  creating." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  the  young  man  asked. 
"Now,  to  me  her  attitude  is  delightfully  un- 
conscious. I  rather  like  her  being  silent,  too. 
A  silent  woman  usually  says  something  worth 


A  LITTLE  MISTAKE  IN  THE  BEGINNING.       5 

listening  to  when  she  does  speak,  and  affords  a 
refreshing  contrast  to  the  glib  chatterer  who 
rattles  off  a  mess  of  nonsense  on  all  occa- 
sions." 

A  look  of  rage  shot  across  the  girl's  face. 
The  young  man,  with  all  his  culture,  was  a 
trifle  oblivious  ;  and  it  had  not  occurred  to  him 
that  his  remarks  might  have  a  personal  applica- 
tion. 

"  I  am  willing  to  wager  that  when  that  girl 
next  opens  her  mouth  it  will  be  to  make  some 
such  sententious  observation  as  '  I  am  awfully 
hungry !  '  '  said  the  angry  young  woman. 
*'  Those  spiritual,  intellectual  faces  often  be- 
long to  very  sordid  or  even  volatile  natures. ' ' 

"Volatile!  Never!  I  accept  your  wager. 
We  will  step  near  enough  to  overhear  a  bit  of 
her  conversation  with  the  next  person  who 
speaks  to  her  ;  and  if  it  does  not  prove  that  she 
possesses  a  very  superior  mind,  I  am  no  judge 
of  character." 

Winnie  was  passing,  on  her  way  to  drag  Tib 
from  her  seclusion,  and  overheard  this  last  re- 
mark. "  Who  is  it  that  this  very  judicial 
young  man  is  going  to  measure  in  this  authori- 
tative fashion ?"  she  wondered.  "How  very 


6  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

unjust  of  him  !  I  do  hope  the  poor  victim  will 
pass  her  examination. " 

"  Have  the  palace  walls  been  talking  to  you, 
all  alone  in  this  corner  <"  she  asked  of  Tib. 
"  If  not,  I  fear  you  have  been  boring  yourself 
to  death." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Tib  replied,  "I  have 
been  much  amused  while  listening  to  the  ele- 
vated conversation  of  three  different  groups — 
two  artists,  three  scandal- loving  old  dames, 
and  some  girls  who  were  comparing  gowns 
and  cooking  recipes.  They  have  scattered 
now,  but  for  a  time  their  chat  blended  in  a 
.most  pleasing  symphony  —something  like  this  : 
'  Now,  dear,  don't  you  think  that  five  chap- 
erones  .  .  .  mixed  in  one  Welsh  rabbit,  beaten 
until  perfectly  smooth  and  hashed  up  fine, 
with  just  a  least  soupQon  of  garlic  .  .  .  and 
bitumen — you  can't  get  your  perfect  tone- effect 
without  bitumen  ...  I  am  positive  that  Rem- 
brandt, and  Titian,  and  all  the  great  tonalists 
used  ...  to  take  her  to  the  Moulin  Rouge 
.  .  .  really  it  was  positively  reckless  in  her  to 
be  seen  in  public  in  such  disreputable  com- 
pany. She  might  have  managed  her  little  con- 
solations so  much  better  .  .  .  now,  I  always 


A  LITTLE  MISTAKE  IN  THE  BEGINNING.      7 

begin  with  lobster  d  la  Newburgh,  and  then  a 
cheese  souffle,  or  some  sort  of  pate  for  an  entre, 
with  &  filet,  and  birds  with  the  salad  ;  and  then 
for  dessert  some  simple  thing  like  ...  a  group 
of  modern  symbolists  and  impressionists,  with 
all  their  realistic  embodiment  of  the  tragedy  of 
human  life,  their  august  melancholy  and  poetic 
intensity,  their  scorn  of  prettiness,  and  their 
worship  of  mysticism,  and  .  .  .  the  sweetest 
Paquin  gown,  copied  from  one  of  Pompadour's, 
with  the  sleeves  'bouillonnees  and  paillottees, 
and  the  dearest  red  velvet  stole,  coming  way 
down  the  front,  all  elaborately  embroidered 
and  festooned  with  .  .  .  soft-shell  crabs  and 
pistache  ice  cream,  and  .  .  .  the  worst  scandal 
of  the  season,  culminating  in  a  divorce  case 
that  was  really  shocking.  The  wretched  hus- 
band committed  suicide.  They  had  the  best 
medical  experts  ;  but  it  was  of  no  use,  there 
was  no  remedy  known  to  science  for  that  kind 
of  poison.  You  see,  he  had  made  death  sure 
by  ...  lunching  with  me.  I  made  the  m6- 
ringue  myself.  ...  It  was  very  sad,  a  scan- 
dal of  this  kind  .  .  .  always  depends  for  its 
success  on  having  it  hot.  You  pop  them  into 
the  chafing-dish  and  add  plenty  of  cayenne  and 


8  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

tobasco,  and  in  two  minutes  it  is  done  to  a 
turn,  provided  you  don't  forget  to  put  in  ... 
MacMonnie's  "  Bacchante  ;"  or  if  you  prefer, 
some  of  those  little  Tanagra  figurines ;  but 
really  the  best  examples  of  antique  art  are  to 
be  found  ...  at  the  opera.  Her  costume  was 
a  dream,  only  a  bird  of  paradise  in  her  hair, 
and  the  most  ravishing  orchids,  the  severe  sim- 
plicity of  ...  a  Puvis  de  Chavannes,  as  near 
an  approach  to  pure  spirit  as  one  can  attain  in 
this  world,  even  when  we  consider  that  .  .  . 
the  punch  was  really  much  too  strong,  and  the 
champagne  flowed  like  water. ' ; 

While  Tib  was  running  on  in  caricature  of 
the  jumbled  conversations  to  which  she  had 
listened,  Winnie  could  have  screamed  with  de- 
light, for  she  noticed"  that  the  autocratic  young 
man  was  listening  with  uncomprehending  eyes 
and  a  general  expression  of  astonishment  and 
mystification. 

"•  Delightful !"  Winnie  whispered  ;  "  but  it's 
not  nearly  so  bad  as  what  I  have  been  enduring 
at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  where  an  Eng- 
lishman, who  had  been  shooting  big  game  in 
India,  a  college  fellow  just  back  from  the 
Olympian  Games,  and  a  girl  who  had  had  her 


A  LITTLE  MISTAKE  IN  THE  BEGINNING.      9 

first  shopping  experience  in  Paris,  were  all  try- 
ing to  outtalk  each  other— like  this  :  '  And 
when  you  consider  how  Asiatic  elephants  do 
.  .  .  shrink  in  the  wash,  you  must  have  them 
made  as  full  as  ...  an  eight-oared  crew  after 
a  university  race,  and  a  good  training  table 
would  only  allow  the  men  to  eat  .  .  .  French 
clocks  and  Vienna  bronzes,  and  a  set  of  Sevres 
porcelain,  besides  a  few  little  bits  of  bijouterie, 
such  as  ...  crocodiles  fully  twenty  feet  long, 
and  a  royal  Bengal  tiger,  the  kind  that  .  .  . 
buttons  on  the  side,  and  that  is  what  I  call  a 
great  reduction,  almost  equal  to  ...  the 
world's  sprinting  record  .  .  .  but  at  the  Bon 
Marche  they  were  selling  the  cunningest  little 
.  .  .  football  players  ...  by  the  gross  for 
.  .  .  two  ostriches  and  a  lioness  ;  but  I  don't 
consider  that  a  remarkable  day's  sport  at  all 
when  you  compare  it  with  the  .  .  .  Prince  of 
Wales'  bag,  which  contained  .  .  .  the  cheapest 
golf  stockings  .  .  .  printed  in  those  bright 
poster  colors,  and  .  .  .  luffing  up  with  the 
wind  before  the  cyclone  struck  them,  and  .  .  . 
dash  in,  Tib  ;  I'm  giving  out ;  come  to  my 
rescue  with  some  more  of  your  talk.  I'll  tell 
you  why  by  and  by." 


10  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

And  Tib,  not  comprehending  why  Winnie 
wished  it,  but  infected  with  her  spirit  of  mis- 
chief, elaborated  with  great  effect  the  absurd 
mixture,  while  Winnie  kept  up  a  running  ac- 
companiment of  athletic  slang,  hunter's  boasts, 
and  shopping  experiences. 

"  You  have  won,"  said  the  serious  young 
man  to  the  malicious  girl.  "  I  never  heard 
such  unadulterated,  condensed  nonsense  in  all 
my  life.  Those  girls  must  be  utter  idiots.  I 
did  not  think  it  possible  that  the  human  brain 
could  be  reduced  to  such  hash. ' ' 

The  malicious  girl  smiled  with  serene  satis- 
faction. "  There  is  such  a  thing,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "  as  being  altogether  too  bright."  She 
understood  the  situation,  and  was  perfectly 
satisfied  with  the  result. 


CHAPTER  II. 
A  CHILD'S  DEEAM  OF  VENICE. 

LOVED    her  from  my  childhood ; 

she  to  me 
Was     as     a    fairy-city    of    the 

heart, 
Rising  like  water-columns  from. 

the  sea, 

Of  joy  the  sojourn,  and  oi 
wealth  the  mart." 

BYKON. 

TIB  had  dreamed  all 
her  life  of  Venice.  The 
first  books  that  she  re- 
membered reading  of 
her  own  choice  were  a  row  of  small  volumes  on 
the  top  shelf  of  the  family  secretary,  entitled 
"  British  Poets,"  and  these— Byron,  Rogers, 
Shelley,  Shakespeare — all  wrote  of  Venice,  and 
all  made  a  deep  impression  on  her  imagination. 
She  lived  on  a  lonely  Long  Island  farm.  The 
yellow,  sandy  dunes  on  the  landward  side  were 


12  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

dreary  and  monotonous,  but  the  little  land- 
locked cove,  where  she  was  allowed  to  paddle 
about  in  an  old  tub  of  a  boat,  offered  unlimited 
resources  to  the  play  of  her  fancy.  To  thought- 
less onlookers  it  was  only  little  Tib  Smith,  of 
Scup  Haven,  in  her  pink  sunbonnet,  rowing  in 
and  out  among  the  sea  weed- covered  piles  of  a 
deserted  and  dilapidated  wharf.  They  did  not 
know  that  she  had  invented  an  amusement  for 
herself  of  which  she  never  tired  ;  that  the  grain 
elevator  just  visible  in  the  distance,  where  the 
white  houses  ran  down  to  the  new  steamboat 
landing,  was  for  her  the  Venetian  Campanile  ; 
the  lighthouse  on  the  rocks,  with  its  low  dome, 
San  Marco,  and  this  row  of  a  dozen  decaying 
old  posts,  between  which  she  loved  to  paddle, 
were  the  marble  colonnades  of  the  palaces  on  the 
Grand  Canal.  At  the  landward  end  of  the 
wharf  a  few  planks  remained,  roofing  the  piles 
and  making  a  shelter  under  which  the  boat 
could  be  drawn  up  at  night.  In  this  cave  Tib 
liked  to  sit,  absorbed  in  her  book,  or  watching 
the  antics  of  the  fiddler  crabs  on  the  sand  at 
her  feet,  or  the  play  of  light  on  the  vista  of 
rich,  dark  posts  stretching  out  before  her,  fram- 
ing in  their  openings  glimpses  of  blue  sky  and 


A   CHILD'S  DREAM  OF  VENICE.  13 

bluer  sea,  crossed  by  an  occasional  white  sail. 
But  always,  as  she  read  or  idly  gazed,  she 
"  made  believe"  that  the  little  cave  in  which 
she  sat  was  a  palace  hall,  and  that  she  was 
looking  out  across  the  Venetian  lagoons. 
Sometimes  she  acted  monologues,  in  which  she 
took  the  part  of  all  the  characters.  The  trag- 
edy of  the  Foscari  was  her  favorite  ;  and  she 
wept  often  over  the  old  doge  who  was  obliged 
to  pass  sentence  of  banishment  on  his  own  son, 
so  unjustly  found  guilty  of  treason  from  ad- 
missions wrung  from  him  in  torture,  and  from 
the  evidence  of  his  enemy  Loredano. 

Sometimes  she  arranged  the  wedding  proces- 
sion of  young  Foscari  with  the  daughter  of  the 
noble  Contarini  as  it  took  place  before  his 
trouble  fell  on  him  ;  and  chips  laden  with  bell- 
shaped  flowers  represented  gondolas  bearing 
ladies,  and  were  sent  bobbing  out  on  the  retreat- 
ing tide  to  dire  disaster. 

There  was  an  old  lobster  crate  which  stood 
for  the  gloomy  dungeons,  approached  by  a 
Bridge  of  Sighs  built  of  sand.  In  this  she  im- 
mured, by  the  order  of  an  imaginary  Council 
of  Ten,  countless  fiddler  crabs,  each  one  sup- 
posed to  be  the  unfortunate  Jacopo  Foscari. 


14  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

But  she  always  connived  at  their  escape,  anu. 
clapped  her  hands  when  a  particularly  lively 
prisoner  scuttled  out  of  his  dungeon  or,  when 
sent  to  exile  in  a  galley  constructed  from  an 
old  sardine  box,  the  intrepid  crab  leaped  over- 
board and,  regardless  of  consequences,  swam 
back  to  Venice. 

One  day  a  very  remarkable  thing  happened. 
There  was  company  at  Captain  Israel  Snyder's 
house.  Captain  Israel  was  their  nearest  neigh- 
bor. He  was  owner  as  well  as  captain  of  his 
ship,  and  was  seldom  at  home,  for  his  wife  had 
died  long  ago,  and  his  daughter  had  accom- 
panied her  father  on  his  voyages,  and  had  been 
educated  and  married  somewhere  in  "  foreign 
parts."  But  Captain  Snyder's  old  maid  sisters 
lived  in  the  comfortable  house,  and  it  was  one 
of  Tib's  delights  to  call  upon  them  and  be  shown 
the  curiosities  which  the  captain  had  brought 
back  to  them  from  his  voyages.  There  were 
shells,  and  coral,  and  carved  sandal  wood  boxes, 
and  queer  pictures  on  rice  paper,  and  jars  of 
preserved  ginger,  and  boxes  of  Smyrna  paste. 

Lately  the  captain  had  resigned  his  position, 
and  had,  as  he  said,  "  lain  by  for  repairs  ;"  but 
he  was  an  old  man,  and  people  shook  their 


A   CHILD'S  DREAM  OF  VENICE.  15 

heads  when  they  quoted  this  statement.  It 
was,  therefore,  a  matter  of  interest  not  only  to 
Tib  but  to  the  entire  community  when  a  quan- 
tity of  luggage  was  deposited  on  the  captain's 
veranda,  and  the  news  ran  through  the  town 
that  Captain  Snyder's  daughter  had  come  to 
visit  him.  So  much  Tib  had  heard  ;  but  one 
day,  as  she  was  playing  with  her  Foscari  crabs, 
a  handsome  boy,  about  her  own  age,  peeped 
down  at  her  from  the  openings  between  the  rot- 
ting planks  of  the  old  wharf.  He  wore  a  jersey 
striped  broadly  in  dark  blue  and  white,  and 
topping  his  curly  black  locks  was  a  crimson, ' 
purse-shaped  cap. 

"  What  are  you  playing  there,  little  girl,  all 
by  yourself  ¥ '  he  asked  in  correct  English,  but 
with  an  odd  accent. 

"  I  am  playing  Venice,"  Tib  replied  shyly. 

"  May  I  come  down  and  play  too  ?  I  used 
to  live  in  Venice,  and  I'm  awfully  lonesome." 

Tib  welcomed  her  unexpected  guest,  and  he 
at  once  threw  himself  into  the  spirit  of  her 
play,  tracing  a  plan  of  the  city  in  the  sand  with 
her  wooden  shovel,  and  letting  the  water  into 
the  canals,  together  they  built  palaces  of  oys- 
ter shells  and  bits  of  broken  crockery,  and  an 


16  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

old  straw  hat  was  mounted  on  four  shingles  to 
represent  the  dome  of  the  Salute. 

While  the  boy  knew  more  of  the  topography 
of  Venice,  Tib  was  much  better  informed  as  to 
its  history  ;  and  day  after  day  they  found  each 
other's  society  vastly  entertaining.  "  My  name 
is  Lolo,"  he  had  said  ;  "  that  is  the  name  they 
call  me  ;  bat  my  true  name  is  Angelo  Zanelli. 
What  is  yours  ?" 

"  My  real  name  is  Nellie  Smith,  but  my  nick- 
name is  Tib.  Father  calls  me  Tibbety  Tibbets. ' ' 

"I  don't  like  any  of  your  names,"  Angelo 
replied  frankly,  "  except  Nellie.  That  is 
pretty,  but  it  does  not  go  well  with  your  last 
name.  Smith  is  hideous.  It  sounds  like  the 
locomotive  letting  off  steam — S-s-s-mith.  Don' t 
you  think  it  would  be  a  great  deal  nicer  if  you 
had  my  name — Nellie  Zanelli  ?  If  you  were 
my  sister  that  is  what  your  name  would  be. 
Don't  you  like  it?" 

Tib  confessed  that  she  did  think  Nellie 
Zanelli  more  musical  than  Tib  Smith. 

"  Then,"  said  Angelo,  "  I  am  going  to  ask 
my  mother  if  there  is  any  way  I  can  give  you 
my  name." 

The  next  time  they  met  Angelo  was  jubilant 


A   CHILD'S  DREAM  OF   VENICE.  17 

"I  asked  grandpa,"  Angelo  said,  "and  at 
first  he  laughed,  and  then  he  said  it  could  be 
managed  very  easily  after  we  grow  up,  provid- 
ed we  both  wish  it  then.  And  I  will  not  have 
to  take  your  mime  either.  I  thought  I  might 
have  to  be  Tibbety  Tibbets  Smith  —  and  I 
would  have  borne  it  for  you,  Xellie— but  grand- 
pa says  that  is  not  necessary.  So  now  you 
must  never,  never  forget  that  you  are  to  be  Nel- 
lie Zanelli.  And  you  must  not  let  any  other 
boy  give  you  his  name,  no  matter  how  much 
prettier  it  may  be." 

This  Tib  readily  promised,  and  every  day 
that  summer  the  playmates  traced  their  mimic 
Venice  in  the  sands,  and  Lolo  gave  her  fasci- 
nating descriptions  of  the  city  itself.  It  seemed 
that  he  lived  in  a  palace  with  a  beautiful  log- 
gia with  white  marble  tracery  carved  like  lace. 
Lolo  drew  the  pattern  in  the  wet  sand  with  the 
help  of  an  old  tin  can,  which  he  used  as  a  sort 
of  cake- cutter,  stamping  out  the  intersecting 
circles.  He  described  the  ball-room,  too,  with 
its  ceiling  frescoed  with  frolicsome  nymphs  and 
its  many  other  lordly  and  sumptuous  features  ; 
but  his  chief  delight  in  this  old  palace  was  a 
suite  of  three  small  rooms  which  he  had  dis- 


18  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 


< 


covered,  and  of  whose  existence  he  was  sure  no 
one  else  knew. 

"  There  is  a  portrait  in  the  ball-room,"  Lolo 
said,  "  a  portrait  of  one  of  my  ancestors  hold- 
ing a  rapier  half  drawn  from  its  sheath.  I 
used  to  be  very  tired  of  seeing  him  eternally 
daring  me  to  combat ;  and  once,  when  my 
mother  was  away  on  a  visit  and  I  was  in  the 
room  all  alone,  I  said,  '  Well,  fight  then,  if 
you  want  to  ; '  and  I  rushed  at  him  with  a  stick 
which  I  had  in  my  hand.  But  I  stumbled  and 
fell  against  the  frame,  and  in  doing  so  I  moved 
a  latch— for  the  picture  was  really  a  door — and 
it  swung  open  just  a  little,  and  I  easily  pushed 
it  wider,  and  there  was  a  little  narrow  staircase 
leading  down.  So  down  I  went,  and  found 
three  funny  little  rooms  with  very  little  f urni- 
ture.  In  the  first  room  only  an  old  bedstead 
stripped  of  its  coverings,  and  a  little  cabinet 
with  drawers  and  pigeon-holes  stuffed  with  yel- 
low, old  letters  and  papers.  The  next  room 
was  very  queer.  It  was  like  a  kitchen,  only 
not  quite  like  one.  It  had  a  little  furnace  of 
brick-work,  with  a  chimney,  and  strangely 
shaped  kettles  and  pipkins,  and  a  sink  all  black- 
ened with  slops  that  had  been  poured  into  it 


A.  CHILD'S  DREAM  OF  VENICE.  19 

and  stained  the  marble  ;  and  there  was  a  shelf 
of  vials  of  queer  shapes,  some  with  medicines 
in  them  and  some  empty.  It  was  a  fine  place 
to  play  drug- store  in,  and  I  had  rare  sport 
afterward  making  up  pills  and  pounding  in  a 
little  mortar ;  but  I  had  sense  enough  not  to 
take  my  medicines,  or  else  I  might  have  been 
poisoned." 

"What  a  queer  place!"  Tib  commented; 
"  perhaps  it  had  been  a  doctor's  office." 

"  That  is  what  I  thought,"  Angelo  replied  ; 
"  and  the  third  room,  which  had  nothing  in  it 
at  all  but  some  rows  of  empty  book  shelves, 
may  have  been  the  anteroom  where  his  patients 
waited,  for  a  little  staircase  led  from  this  room 
down  to  a  door  which  had  once  opened  on  a 
side  street,  but  which  was  now  walled  up  with 
stone.  I  asked  my  old  nurse,  Bianca,  the  next 
day,  whether  any  one  of  my  ancestors  had  been 
a  doctor,  and  she  said  yes,  there  was  one,  but  I 
must  never  ask  my  father  about  him,  for  he 
was  a  very  bad  man,  and  had  perished  miser- 
.ibly  for  his  crimes,  to  the  disgrace  of  our  fam- 
ily. She  would  not  tell  me  any  more  just 
then  ;  but  another  day  we  happened  to  be  walk- 
ing down  the  calle  (I  mean  the  little  side  street), 


20  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

and  I  pointed  out  the  door  that  had  been 
walled  up,  and  asked  her  what  it  meant.  She 
crossed  herself,  and  showed  me  a  cross  traced 
in  the  mortar,  and  said  it  had  been  closed  by 
the  order  of  the  Holy  Inquisition,  which  had 
burned  my  ancestor  with  the  books  taken  from 
his  own  library  because  he  was  a  wizard  and  a 
murderer,  a  maker  of  poisons  and  a  killer  of  his 
patients  by  horrible  means  which  he  had  learned 
in  Eastern  countries.  This  was  so  very  dread- 
ful that  I  determined  not  to  speak  to  my  father 
about  it,  for  I  knew  that  it  would  pain  him. 
'  Does  my  mother  know  this  ? '  I  asked  ;  and  I 
was  glad  when  Bianca  said  that  she  did  not.  I 
asked  her  why  this  side  door  had  been  walled 
up  instead  of  the  front  door  of  our  palace,  and 
Bianca  said  that  it  had  opened  into  the  wiz- 
ard's laboratory  and  library,  which  were  for- 
merly somewhere  in  the  cellars  under  the 
house,  but  that  they  must  have  been  filled  up 
with  earth,  as,  though  they  had  been  searched 
for,  no  such  rooms  could  be  found  or  any  door 
or  passageway  on  the  inside  of  the  house  cor- 
responding to  the  bricked  doorway  on  the 
calle.  Then  I  knew  that  I  was  the  only  one 
who  knew  the  secret  of  the  little  rooms,  and 


A   CHILD'S  DREAM  OF  VENICE.  21 

that  really  they  were  not  in  the  cellars,  but  be- 
tween the  main  floor,  where  the  grand  apart- 
ments are,  and  the  lower  story,  where  the  jani- 
tor lives.  Bianca  told  me  that  the  ghost  of  my 
wicked  ancestor,  a  bent  old  man  in  a  long  black 
cloak,  had  been  seen  passing  in  and  out  of  that 
walled-up  door,  walking  right  through  the  solid 
stone.  '  But  she  made  me  promise  never  to  tell  a 
word  of  this  to  my  mother  or  my  father  ;  and, 
indeed,  I  would  not  pain  my  dear  mamma  for 
worlds  by  telling  her  about  this  bad  man.  I 
used  to  hope  that  his  ghost  would  come  in 
some  day  while  I  was  there.  1  would  have 
asked  whether  it  was  really  true  that  he  had 
killed  anybody  on  purpose — for,  you  know,  he 
might  have  done  it  by  mistake.  I  could  not 
go  down  to  the  little  rooms  as  often  as  I  would 
have  liked,  for  I  did  not  want  to  be  found  out ; 
but  when  mother  had  gone  out  for  a  trip  to  the 
Lido,  and  Bianca  thought  I  had  gone  with  her, 
I  would  have  my  chance  of  an  hour  or  so  among 
the  bottles." 

Angelo's  story  of  the  little  rooms  interested 
Tib  greatly.  "  You  must  show  them  to  me  if  I 
ever  go  to  Venice,"  she  said. 

"  If  you  go  !    Of  course  you  will  go,"  An- 


22  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

gelo  replied.     "  When  you  are  Nellie  Zanelli, 
you  must  come  and  live  in  Venice." 

So  all  summer  the  children  played  together 
on  the  beach  ;  but  when  autumn  came,  Captain 
Israel's  daughter  and  grandson  went  back  to 
Venice,  and  that  winter  Captain  Israel  Snyder 
sailed  away  on  his  long  voyage  to  the  undis- 
covered country,  and  Tib  knew  that  Lolo  would 
never  come  to  Scup  Haven  again.  Before  he 
had  gone  he  had  given  her  a  farewell  present,  a 
little  silver  box  which  he  had  found  in  the  old 
cabinet  in  the  little  room.  It  was  shaped  like 
a  snuff-box,  but  was  smaller,  and  there  was  an- 
other exactly  like  it.  They  screwed  together 
at  the  back  and  formed  one  box  with  two  com- 
partments. Each  had  the  word  Zanelli  en- 
graved upon  the  lid,  and  each  contained  small, 
glass-like  globules,  which  might  have  been 
taken  for  beads  but  that  they  were  not  per- 
forated. Lolo  kept  the  box  with  the  green 
balls,  and  gave  Tib  that  containing  amber  ones. 

"  Don't  eat  them,  they  may  be  poison,"  the 
boy  had  said;  "but  if  you  ever  forget  what 
your  name  is  going  to  be  you  can  look  at  the 
lid  of  this  box.  See,  I  have  scratched  jff  the 
Za  on  my  box,  so  it  reads  Nelli,  and  that  means 


A   CHILD'S  DREAM  OF  VENICE.  23 

you.  I  shall  wait  for  you,  Nellie,  and  I  shall 
not  give  my  name  to  any  one  else,  for  there  is 
no  one  in.  the  world  I  love  so  much." 

And  so  her  playmate  faded  out  of  her  life  ; 
and  though  she  never  quite  forgot  him,  Tib 
gradually  gave  up  all  expectation  of  ever  seeing 
Lolo  again.  But  she  never  relinquished  the 
hope  that  some  day  she  would  see  Venice. 
When  spring  came  and  she  could  return  to  her 
play  on  the  beach  she  acted  her  little  dramas 
again  all  by  herself,  as  she  had  done  before  the 
coming  of  Lolo.  One  day  her  father  followed 
her,  and  heard  her  repeating  a  monologue  to 
herself : 

"  There  is  a  glorious  city  in  the  sea  ; 
The  sea  is  in  the  broad  and  narrow  streets, 
Ebbing  and  flowing,  and  the  salt  seaweed 
Clings  to  the  marble  of  her  palaces." 

"Where  are  your  palaces,  little  girl?"  he 
called  in  his  hearty  way.  "  Acting  a  play  all 
by  your  little  lonesome  ?  Guess  you  are  too 
much  by  yourself,  and  we  will  have  to  send 
you  to  school." 

But  school  only  gave  new  food  to  her  imagi- 
nation. She  studied  every  photograph  and 
etching  that  came  in  her  way,  and  listened  later 


24  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

to  lectures  by  Professor  Waite  on  Venetian  his- 
tory  and  Venetian  art,  and  in  the  city  exhibi- 
tions and  at  the  picture-dealers'  learned  to 
know  something  of  the  marvellous  Venetian 
coloring.  It  was  always  her  hope,  her  ambi- 
tion to  some  day  see  the  wonderful  city  of  her 
dreams,  though  the  mirage  faded  farther  and 
farther  away  as  she  grew  older.  She  was  an 
art  student  now,  and  had  been  in  Europe, 
though  it  had  never  been  possible  for  her  to 
visit  Italy  ;  but  at  last  this  longed-for  privi- 
lege had  come  to  her,  the  dream  of  her  life  had 
come  true,  and  Tib  was  in  Venice.  She  had 
stepped  into  a  strange  hallucination  when  she 
took  her  seat  in  the  gondola,  when  Winnie  met 
her  at  her  arrival  at  the  railway  station,  and 
had  drifted  quite  out  of  the  reality  of  travel. 
She  had  lived  an  unreal,  romantic  life  as  a 
child — a  life  created  by  her  own  imagination. 
Now  the  romance  was  real,  but  it  all  seemed 
the  glamour  of  a  dream. 

"It  is  impossible !"  she  kept  repeating  be- 
neath her  breath.  "  I  shall  wake  up  in  a  few 
moments.  These  palaces  flitting  by,  these 
glimpses,  up  narrow  canals,  of  bridges  and  bal- 
conies, and  roses  clambering  over  garden  walls, 


A  CHILD'S  DREAM  OF  VENICE.  25 

will  all  dissolve  ;  but  let  me  enjoy  the  illusion 
while  it  lasts."  It  was  all  so  familiar  and  so 
satisfying  !  As  the  gondola,  after  many  hair- 
breadth evasions  of  collision  in  the  narrow,  tor- 
tuous waterways,  glided  out  upon  the  Grand 
Canal,  she  recognized  the  Eialto  Bridge  and 
many  of  the  palaces.  "That  I  should  really 
see  them,"  she  murmured — "the  palaces  of 
Venice,  with  the  quatrefoils  over  the  arches  in 
the  loggias,  just  as  Lolo  used  to  cut  them  in  the 
sand  with  the  tomato- can  !' ' 

"Are  you  out  of  your  mind?"  Winnie 
asked. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  you  think  so,"  Tib  re- 
plied ;  "  but  it  is  all  so  strangely  familiar." 

"  Perhaps  you  lived  here  once  in  some  pre- 
vious state  of  existence,"  Winnie  said  jest- 
ingly. 

"Yes,  long  ago,  when  I  was  a  child,"  Tib 
replied,  "  I  used  to  build  mimic  palaces,  and 
fancy  that  I  would  live  in  a  real  one  some  day." 

The  gondola  stopped  gently  in  front  of  a 
flight  of  marble  steps,  and  Tib,  still  dazed, 
gazed  at  the  beautiful  old  building. 

"  Why,  this  is  a  palace,"  she  said  to  Winnie. 
"  What  business  have  we  here  2" 


26  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"Yes,"  Winnie  replied,  "a  palace  let  in 
floors,  like  an  apartment  house,  and  we  have 
the  best  floor.  We  have  all  that  lovely  loggia, 
as  they  call  the  balcony,  except  the  end,  which 
is  railed  off  in  front  of  the  door  at  the  corner. 
Some  one  else  has  the  right  to  nse  that  part, 
and  the  door  opens  into  a  passage  leading  to 
the  main  hallway.  But  whoever  this  other 
tenant  may  be,  I  have  not  seen  him  yet,  and 
we  really  have  the  entire  beautiful  balcony 
quite  to  ourselves." 

The  haunting  feeling  of  familiarity  explained 
itself  to  Tib  when  she  entered  the  ball-room 
studio.  It  was  such  a  house  as  this  that  had 
been  Lolo's  home,  for  there  were  the  frescoed 
nymphs,  "attributed  to  Giorgione,"  on  the 
ceiling,  and  a  row  of  ancestors'  portraits  on  the 
wall.  But  of  course  there  were  a  hundred  such 
houses  in  Venice,  and  Lolo  was  probably  now 
a  very  ordinary  man. 


CHAPTER  III. 


FIRST  DAYS   IN  VENICE,    AND   ANOTHER  LITTLE 
MISTAKE. 

every  traveller  who 
has  read  much,  even 
if  he  has  had  no 
such  experience  as 
Tib's,  Venice  at  first 
view  brings  a  cer- 
tain strange,  haunt- 
ing sensation  of 
familiarity.  It  is  so 
satisfying,  too,  ful- 
filling and  more 
than  realizing  all 
our  preconceived  ideas  ;  a  constantly  increas- 
ing delight  which  does  not  diminish  or  pall  on 
closer  acquaintance  ;  one  of  the  few  things  that 
no  one  can  overpraise — at  least  for  the  artist  or 
for  a  mind  sensitive  to  artistic  and  poetic  influ- 
ences. 


28  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

The  palace  in  which  they  had  taken  the  state 
apartment  kept  its  old  traditions  very  well. 
There  were  no  anachronisms  of  modern  con- 
veniences of  any  kind.  Though  there  were 
other  lodgers  in  the  house,  they  rarely  met  them 
on  the  staircase,  and  never  elsewhere.  The 
girls'  bedroom  was  paved  with  scagliola,  a  mo- 
saic exactly  like  that  on  the  floors  of  the  Ducal 
Palace,  which  struck  the  foot  with  a  chill  shock 
at  rising,  and  reminded  Winnie  perversely  of 
slices  of  bologna  sausage.  Their  windows,  too, 
looked  across  all  the  shimmer  and  changing  life 
of  the  canal  to  the  dome  of  the  Salute,  a  pros- 
pect of  which  they  never  wearied.  There  was 
a  better  view  of  the  church  from  the  balcony  ; 
and  here  Tib  loved  to  sit  with  her  travelling 
sketch-box  in  her  lap,  while  she  brushed  in 
view  after  view  of  the  church,  getting  a  differ- 
ent effect  with  the  varying  lightings  of  sunset, 
or  dawn,  or  midday  ;  of  white  mist,  or  stormy 
cloud,  or  clear,  azure  sky.  There  were  few 
American  guests  at  the  hotels  at  this  season. 
It  was  growing  too  warm,  and  the  tourists  had 
flitted  to  the  Italian  lakes  and  the  Tyrol ;  but 
Italians  from  the  south  of  Italy,  for  whom  Ven- 
ice is  a  summer  watering-place,  had  taken  their 


FIRST  DATS  IN  VENICE.  29 

place,  and  the  city  was  as  full  of  sightseers  and 
idlers  as  ever,  while  the  regular  inhabitants  had 
adopted  an  out-of-door  life  and  kept  up  a  cheer- 
ful chatter  in  their  musical  tongue.  There  was 
much  coming  and  going  from  the  lagoon,  where 
the  sea  breezes  were  fresh  and  cool.  There  was 
always  a  group  of  gondolas  at  the  palace  steps, 
tempting  the  ever-active  Italians  to  wander  ;  but 
Tib  was  so  contented  right  there  in  this  hang- 
bird's  nest  that  it  was  long  before  she  yielded  to 
Winnie's  suggestions  of  other  delights  to  be  ex- 
plored. She  had  the  balcony  quite  to  herself. 
Others  looked  in  for  a  moment  and  passed  out 
again,  but  no  one  seemed  to  care  as  she  did 
to  ensconce  herself  there  from  breakfast  until 
luncheon.  There  were  signs  that  a  gentleman 
found  the  end  which  had  been  reserved  for 
other  lodgers  a  favorite  haunt  in  the  very  early 
morning,  for  there  were  always  fresh  cigar 
ashes  on  the  table,  an  empty  coffee-cup,  and  a 
volume  of  Ruskin,  all  of  which  a  servant  car- 
ried away  later  in  the  day.  Tib  had  not  noticed 
these  indications,  but  nothing  escaped  Win- 
nie's keen  observation. 

"It  is  rather  odd  that  we  never  meet  our 
friend  the  elderly  English  architect,"  she  re' 


30  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE: 

marked.  "  He  comes  here  so  regularly  for  his 
morning  coffee,  his  chapter  of  Ruskin,  and  his 
little  smoke,  that  it  would  be  natural  for  us  to 
find  him  here  some  day.  I  wonder  whether  he 
has  ascertained  the  hour  that  we  usually  take 
possession,  and  leaves  designedly  before  we  ar- 
rive. If  so,  he  is  either  very  shy  or  else  consid- 
erate of  us,  and  afraid  of  frightening  us  away. 
In  either  case,  I  like  him  for  it. " 

"  Yes,"  Tib  replied  absently,  "  it  is  very  good 
of  him.  Who  did  you  say  he  is  ?" 

"  I  said  the  elderly  English  architect  who  in 
the  morning  monopolizes  the  end  of  the  balcony 
which  does  not  belong  to  us.  There  are  always 
Italians  there  in  the  evening  listening  to  the 
serenades  and  watching  the  effect  of  the  moon- 
light and  the  reflections  of  the  lanterns  in  the 
water ;  but  our  friend  is  the  only  one  who  is 
sufficiently  ( matinal'  to  have  discovered  its 
charms  at  dawn.  Young  people  do  not  like  to 
get  up  early  ;  therefore  I  argue  that  man  has 
either  passed  the  age  of  spending  the  night 
with  the  boys,  or  else  he  is  a  very  serious 
young  man.  No,  he  cannot  be  young  at  all ; 
no  young  man  could  resist  these  lovely  Vene- 
tian nights.  Sherlock  Holmes  has  made  it  per- 


FIRST  DAYS  IN  VENICE.  31 

fectly  easy.  We  have  only  to  open  our 
eyes  and'  judge  from  unmistakable  indica- 
tions." 

"  But  why  do  you  conclude  that  he  is  an 
Englishman  and  an  architect  ?" 

"  Because  his  Ruskin  is  a  London  edition — 
that  gives  a  clew  as  to  the  nationality  ;  then  he 
is  moved  to  indignation  at  what  Buskin  says 
against  Renaissance  architecture,  and  no  one 
but  an  architect  would  have  cared.  He  has 
probably  studied  at  the  Ecole  des  Beaux  Arts 
in  Paris,  for  the  Ecole  is  given  over  to  the 
Renaissance.  It  is  fun  to  see  how  he  has 
marked  all  these  passages  and  thrown  in  ex- 
clamation points  and  interrogation  points,  and 
such  remarks  as  '  Absurd  ! '  and  '  Untrue,'  and 
'  I  wish  some  one  would  answer  this, '  in  the 
margin." 

"  Do  you  think  it  quite  fair  to  read  written 
notes  without  permission  ?"  Tib  asked. 

"  I  did  not  know,  when  I  began  to  read,  that 
there  were  any  notes,"  Winnie  replied.  "I 
am  sure  Ruskin  is  public  property.  I  opened 
the  book  to  his  quotation  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's 
description  of  scenery  in  the  Trossachs,  where 
he  says : 


32  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  '  Each  purple  peak,  each  flinty  spire, 
Was  bathed  in  floods  of  living  fire.' 

Ruskin  quotes  it  to  prove  that  the  Gothic  im- 
agery, in  the  use  of  the  word  spire,  is  what 
gives  beauty  to  the  passage  ;  and  he  argues 
that  the  corresponding  term  taken  from  classi- 
cal architecture  would  not  have  been  so  poetic. 
'  Suppose,'  he  says,  '  Sir  Walter  had  written  : 
"Each  purple  peak,  each  flinty  pediment." 
Why  would  the  poem  be  spoiled  ?  Simply  be- 
cause those  pediments  and  architraves  never 
excited  a  single  pleasurable  feeling  in  you,  and 
never  will  to  the  end  of  time.'  This  is  wrhat 
excites  the  ire  of  our  old  friend  the  architect. 
Evidently  classical  terms  sound  melodiously  to 
his  aged  ear,  and  to  him  the  image  of  a  Greek 
temple  is  as  beautiful  as  that  of  a  Gothic  cathe- 
dral. I  can  see  him  shaking  his  gray  head 
vigorously.  Some  way  I  see  signs  of  vigor  as 
well  as  age  ;  and  I  believe  he  has  a  perfect 
inane  of  iron-gray  hair,  and  I  sympathize  with 
him,  Tib.  I  like  the  Gothic  palaces  here  in 
Venice  ;  but,  indeed,  I  think  the  classical  ones 
have  a  great  deal  of  dignity  too.  Now,  look  at 
the  Salute  over  there.  It  is  almost  mountain- 
ous in  outline.  When  the  moonlight  rested  on 


FIRST  DATS  IN  VENICE.  33 

it  last  night  it  reminded  me  of  the  snowy  dome 
of  Mont  Blanc.  Of  course  not  so  immense, 
but  majestic  and  pure  ;  and  when  the  sunset 
flushed  it  all  rosy  pink  as  we  were  drifting 
by  the  other  evening,  the  facade  rose  above  us 
like  some  sheer  precipice — the  cliffs  of  Dover, 
perhaps.  Oh,  I  am  sure  that  Renaissance 
architecture  furnishes  just  the  imagery  with 
which  to  describe  mountains  in  poetic  lan- 
guage, ancl  I  believe  Sir  Walter  could  have 
done  it." 

"  Of  course  he  could,"  Tib  replied.  "  I  am 
not  Scott,  but  I  believe  I  could  do  it, "  and  she 
began  to  scribble  on  an  old  envelope.  "  Let  me 
see— 

Its  soaring  columns  carved  in  mist 
With  tender  flush  of  sunrise  kissed. 

No,  it  will  be  better  to  have  it  a  moonlight 
effect.  Ah !  now  I  have  it,"  and  her  fingers 
flew  faster. 

"  Hurry,  Tib,  or,  better,  leave  it  for  another 
time,"  said  Winnie.  "  Here  is  Tribolo  with  his 
gondola,  come  to  take  us  for  our  afternoon 
trip." 

Tib  dropped  her  poem  and  hastily  packed  up 
her  sketch-box  and  followed  Winnie. 


34  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  Well,  what  did  you  make  out  of  the  im- 
possible stylobates  and  architraves  f '  Winnie 
asked  an  hour  later. 

"  I  don't  quite  remember.  I  must  have 
dropped  the  paper  in  the  canal,"  Tib  replied. 
"It  is  of  no  consequence  ;  I  did  not  succeed 
very  well." 

But  the  "  elderly  English  architect"  (who,  by 
the  way,  was  neither  elderly,  nor  an  English- 
man, nor  an  architect,  but  the  young  man  who 
had  listened  to  then;  nonsense  that  memorable 
Thursday),  this  mistaken  and  mistaking  indi- 
vidual thought  differently  when,  in  the  quiet 
of  his  own  room,  his  servant  handed  him  his 
volume  of  Ruskin,  and  he  found  the  scribbled 
envelope  between  its  leaves. 

"  What  sentimental  young  person  has  been 
writing  me  poetry  ?' '  was  his  first  remark. 
"  Really,  a  very  romantic  proceeding  to  tuck  it 
inside  my  favorite  book,  but  forward,  my  dear, 
decidedly  forward.  Your  governess  should 
look  after  you  better."  And  then  he  read  the 
poem  and  elevated  his  eyebrows.  "Not  writ- 
ten to  me  exactly,  after  all,  but  in  answer  to 
my  request  that  some  one  would  show  Ruskin 
that  the  Renaissance  is  as  poetic  as  the  GothK 


FIRST  DATS  IN  VENICE.  35 

Rather  cleverly  managed,  too,  but  self-conscious. 
She  must  have  felt  that  it  was  good,  or  she 
would  not  have  offered  it  for  my  admiration. 
Yes,  here  is  her  name  on  the  other  side  of  the 
envelope — Miss  Winifred  De  Witt,  in  a  very 
manly  hand,  not  hers.  A  pretty  name — Amer- 
ican probably,  and  I  have  pleasant  memories  of 
America,  and  have  met  many  intelligent  Amer- 
ican girls,  and  some  with  lovely  faces  ;  but,  un- 
happily, graces  of  mind  and  feature  are  not 
always  found  together.  Now,  if  that  girl  with 
the  Madonna  face  that  1  saw  at  the  Waites' 
studio  Thursday  afternoon  had  been  capable  of 
writing  something  like  this !  But,  instead, 
what  a  stream  of  idiotic  maundering  poured 
from  those  perfect  lips  !  The  woman  who  wrote 
this  is  probably  a  fright  to  look  upon,  and  yet 
she  must  have  had  some  appreciation  of  beauty 
both  in  art  and  nature. " 

Once  more  he  read  Tib's  lines  with  pleas- 
ure : 

"  Like  some  Greek  temple  pure  and  grave 
With  pediment  and  architrave, 
And  sculptured  columns  soaring  high 
Against  the  solemn,  starlit  sky, 
The  mountain  with  its  dome  of  snow 
Lifted  its  perfect  portico." 


36        WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  The  law  of  compensation  is  a  cruel  one," 
he  thought.  u  Here  is  a  mind  with  which  I 
am  in  sympathy.  She  loves  Renaissance  archi- 
tecture, and  all  her  metaphors  are  correct. 
That  argues  cultured  taste,  education,  travel. 
She  expresses  that  taste  in  acceptable  terms, 
which  argues  more  education,  and,  alas  !  age, 
also  a  certain  ability  which  comes  from  prac- 
tice. She  is  doubtless  an  elderly  penny-a-liner, 
and  I  shall  recognize  this  poem  some  day  in  the 
pages  of  the  Ladies'  Domestic  WeeJdy.  This 
reasoning  from  circumstantial  evidence,  which 
Sherlock  Holmes  has  reduced  to  an  exact  sci- 
ence, has  its  drawbacks  :  it  effectually  destroys 
all  our  illusions." 

The  young  man's  face  was  a  pleasant  one 
while  those  thoughts .  chased  each  other  in  his 
idle  fancy  ;  but  suddenly  a  cloud  crossed  it, 
and  he  dashed  the  poem  into  a  drawer  of  his 
desk,  and  set  himself  resolutely  to  some  liter- 
ary work  upon  which  he  had  been  engaged. 
"  What  business  have  I,"  he  asked  himself, 
"  to  indulge  in  foolish  speculation  about  any 
woman — I  who  have  such  a  heritage  of  disgrace 
that  I  can  never  marry,  but  who  have  sufficient 
consolation  in  the  love  of  my  mother  and  in 


FIRST  DATS  IN  VENICE.  37 

this  absorbing  work  which  I  have  set  myself  to 
do,  for  the  sake  of  Venice— Venice  whom  I 
have  made  my  only  sweetheart,  and  whom  I 
shall  make  to  be  known  and  loved  by  others  as 
I  love  her  2" 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR — SKETCHING  TRIPS — A  GHOST. 

'JNN1E  had  at  last 
succeeded  in  per- 
suading Tib  that 
ten  different  stu- 
dies of  the  same 
view  of  the  Salute 
were  enough  to 
give  to  that  par- 
ticular building, 
when  all  Venice 
still  lay  unex- 
plored, and,  with 
Adelaide  as  guide, 

they  had  visited  the  chief  points  of  interest  and 
had  settled  down  to  a  daily  gondola  sketching 
trip.  Their  gondolier,  Tribolo — so  called,  he  told 
them,  on  account  of  his  tribulations — had  such 
a  gentle,  appealing  look  of  melancholy  that 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR— SKETCHING  TRIPS.      39 

i 

they  had  not  been  able  to  resist,  and  they  had 
engaged  him  for  the  season,  though  his  prices 
were  higher  and  his  gondola  older  than  those  of 
the  other  gondoliers.  As  they  were  returning 
from,  one  of  their  expeditions  soon  after  this 
arrangement  had  been  entered  upon,  Tribolo 
brought  them  back  by  way  of  a  number  of  tor- 
tuous and  narrow  side  canals.  Just  before  they 
flashed  into  the  sunshine  of  the  Grand  Canal 
they  passed  a  gateway  or  doorway  which  had 
formerly  opened  upon  a  narrow  sidewalk  that 
ran  along  by  the  canal,  but  was  now  filled  in 
with  great  blocks  of  rough  stone.  It  was  alto- 
gether a  very  picturesque  bit,  for  there  was  a 
carved  head  on  the  keystone  of  the  arch,  and  a 
vine  from  the  neighboring  garden  had  clam- 
bered over  the  wall  and  drooped  over  the  stones, 
as  though  Nature,  too,  were  striving  to  close 
the  doorway.  Tribolo  rowed  slowly,  for  he 
fancied  that  the  girls  might  like  to  sketch  the 
door  some  day  ;  and  Tib  called  to  him  to  stop, 
and  scrutinized  it  intently.  But  it  was  not  be- 
cause of  its  capabilities  in  suggesting  a  water- 
color.  "  Where  have  I  seen  a  picture  or  read  a 
description  of  this  door  ?"  she  said  reflectively  ; 
and  then,  turning  to  Tribolo,  she  asked,  "  Is 


40  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

there  any  legend  connected  with  the  walling  up 
of  this  door  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  signorita,"  the  gondolier 
replied  ;  "  but  I  have  heard  others  say  that  the 
place  is  haunted  ;  that  at  night  phantom  gon- 
dolas arrive,  and  the  ghosts  pass  right  through 
the  wall." 

"  Yes,"  Tib  assented  eagerly,  "  I  have  heard 
so  too;  but  where?"  A  dip  of  the  oar,  and 
they  turned  the  corner,  and  found  themselves, 
to  their  surprise,  in  front  of  their  own  palazzo. 
"  Why,  it  is  our  own  house  !"  Tib  exclaimed. 

* '  I  think  not, ' '  Winnie  replied.  ' '  Very  like- 
ly it  belongs  to  one  of  the  buildings  back  of 
our  palace.  If  it  were  a  part  of  our  house,  we 
would  have  windows  overlooking  the  garden." 

They  did  not  pass  the  door  for  many  days 
after  this,  for  the  Grand  Canal  became  for  a 
time  their  favorite  sketching  ground.  Every 
morning  Tribolo  would  row  them  up  its  sweep- 
ing, S-shaped  curve,  stopping  at  some  point  of 
vantage  opposite  one  of  the  older  palaces,  where 
they  could  sketch  its  lovely  facade.  Some- 
times, when  no  opening  side  canal  or  sheltered 
corner  could  be  found  where  she  could  make 
her  drawing  from  the  gondola,  a  window  could 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR-SKETCHING  TRIPS.      41 

be  hired  for  a  few  hours  in  some  apartment 
placarded  "  To  Let1'  opposite  a  coveted  view, 
and  so  her  set  of  palace  fronts  grew  every  day 
more  complete. 

While  thus  engaged,  Winnie  would  read 
aloud  from  guide-books  and  histories  the  stories 
of  the  old  buildings  which  Tib  drew,  so  that 
they  had  a  fair  idea  of  the  dates  when  they 
were  built,  of  their  different  styles  of  architec- 
ture, and  of  the  histories  of  the  different  fami- 
lies who  had  occupied  them. 

They  found  that  even  so  far  back  as  1495  the 
Grand  Canal  had  deserved  its  name.  Philippe 
de  Comynes,  at  that  time  the  French  ambassa- 
dor, thus  chronicled  his  impressions  : 

"  They  led  me  along  the  Canal  Grant,  which 
is  very  large.  Galleys  pass  through  it,  and  one 
sees  ships  of  four  hundred  tons'  burden  near 
the  houses.  And  I  believe  it  to  be  the  most 
beautiful  street  in  all  the  world,  and  the  best 
built,  and  goes  the  length  of  the  city.  The 
houses  are  very  large  and  high,  of  good  stone, 
and  the  ancient  ones  are  all  painted ;  the 
others,  made  since  a  hundred  years,  have  the 
fronts  in  white  marble  which  comes  from  Istria. 
It  is  the  most  triumphant  city  that  I  have  seen, 


42  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

and  the  most  wisely  governed,  and  where  the 
service  of  God  is  most  solemnly  rendered. " 

If  Comynes  could  thus  praise  the  Canal  in 
his  time,  it  has  grown  even  more  beautiful 
since  a  third  style,  that  of  the  Renaissance,  has 
sprung  up  amid  the  palaces  of  the  Byzantine 
period  and  the  pure,  fanciful  Gothic  ("  the 
point-lace  of  architecture' '). 

These  three  orders,  the  Byzantine  or  Arab, 
the  Lombard  or  Gothic,  and  the  Classical  or 
Renaissance,  mingle  in  the  Ducal  Palace.  It 
is,  as  Ruskin  calls  it,  "  the  central  building  of 
the  world."  On  the  Grand  Canal,  however, 
they  are  to  be  traced  distinctly  in  each  sepa- 
rate, perfect  palace,  each  beautiful  after  its 
own  kind. 

The  girls'  favorite  course,  when  they  wished 
simply  to  make  a  gondola  trip  for  the  sake  of 
the  enjoyment  of  the  ensemble,  was  from  their 
own  hotel  to  the  Palazzo  Vendramin,  near  the 
railroad  station.  It  was  the  path  by  which 
they  had  entered  Venice,  the  trip  taken  by  the 
most  Hurried  of  tourists,  and  the  one  which 
of  all  others  gives  most  of  beauty  and  inter- 
est at  every  dip  of  the  oar.  Hopkinson  Smith, 
with  his  sensitive  artist's  eye  and  the  skilled 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR— SKETCHING   TRIPS.      43 

touch  of  a  word  painter,  has  best  described 
it: 

"  Nowhere  else  in  the  wide  world  is  there 
such  a  sight — a  double  row  of  creamy  white 
palaces  tiled  in  red  and  topped  with  quaint 
chimneys ;  overhanging  balconies  of  marble, 
fringed  with  flowers,  with  gay  awnings  above 
and  streaming  shadows  below ;'  two  lines  of 
narrow  quays  crowded  with  people  flashing 
bright  bits  of  color  in  the  blazing  sun  ;  swarms 
of  gondolas,  barcos,  and  lesser  water-spiders 
darting  in  and  out ;  lazy  red- sailed  luggers, 
melon-loaded,  wit>-  crinkled  green  shadows 
crawling  beneath  ^dr  bows,  rifLile  at  the  far 
end,  over  the  glistening  highway,  beaded  with 
people,  curves  the  beautiful  bridge — an  ivory 
arch  against  a  turquoise  sky." 

Our  young  artists  never  tired  of  this  beauti- 
ful panorama,  and  agreed  that  the  reproduction 
of  its  beauties  gave  opportunity  for  as  many 
centuries  of  art  work  as  had  been  required  for 
their  creation.  They  studied  the  buildings 
from  a  historical  point  of  view,  first  visiting 
and  sketching  the  few  older  and  more  ruinous 
palaces,  and  finding  them  picturesque  and  color- 
ful in  their  decay.  While  the  later  buildings 


44  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

could  receive  ample  justice  from  black  and 
white  drawings,  and  even  from  photographs, 
the  charm  of  these  ancient  palaces  could  only 
be  painted,  for  the  chief  characteristic  of  the 
Byzantine  architecture,  like  that  of  the  Orient 
from  which  it  is  derived,  is  color.  The  exteriors 
of  these  houses  had  been  ornamented  with  tiles 
and  with  columns  of  colored  marbles. 

With  Ruskin  as  a  guide,  the  girls  discovered 
a  group  of  old  Byzantine  palaces  near  the 
Rialto  mentioned  in  his  Appendix  to  the 
"  Stones  of  Venice."  All  of  these  Byzantine 
palaces  were  formerly  encrusted  with  mosaics. 
Their  columns  were  generally  purple  porphyry 
or  of  green  serpentine,  and  in  their  wealth  of. 
color  they  presented  a  contrast  to  the  white 
marble  of  the  Gothic  and  the  Renaissance 
period.  It  was  of  these  Byzantine  palaces  that 
Rogers  wrote : 

"  By  many  a  pile  in  more  than  Eastern  pride, 
Of  old  the  residence  of  merchant  kings, 
The  fronts  of  some,  though  time  had  shattered  them, 
Still  glowing  with  the  richest  hues  of  art." 

Very  sad  is  the  present  condition  of  some  of 
them,  not  unlike  that  of  the  Fondaco  dei  Turchi 
when  Ruskin  saw  it.  Ruskin 's  description  of 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR-SKETCHING   TRIPS.       45 

this  famous  building,  which  in  the  tenth  cen- 
tury was  the  warehouse  and  exchange  of  Turk- 
ish merchants,  seemed  to  the  girls  the  most  elo- 
quent word  picture  they  had  ever  seen  of  the 
degradation  of  ruined  grandeur  : 

"It  is  a  ghastly  ruin,  whatever  is  venerable 
and  sad  in  its  wreck  being  disguised  by  at- 
tempts to  put  it  to  present  uses  of  the  basest 
kind.  The  covering  stones  have  been  torn 
away  like  the  shroud  from  a  corpse,  and  its 
walls,  rent  into  a  thousand  chasms,  are  filled 
and  refilled  with  fresh  brick-work,  and  the 
seams  and  hollows  choked  with  clay,  and 
whitewash  oozing  and  trickling  over  the  mar- 
ble. Soft  grasses  and  wandering  leafage  have 
rooted  themselves  in  the  rents,  but  they  are  not 
suffered  to  grow  in  their  own  wild  and  gentle 
way,  for  the  place  is  in  some  sort  inhabited : 
rotten  partitions  are  nailed  across  its  corridors, 
and  here  and  there  the  weeds  are  indolently 
torn  down,  leaving  their  haggard  fibres  to  strug- 
gle again  into  unwholesome-  growth  when  the 
spring  next  stirs  them." 

It  was  while  Tib  was  making  a  water-color 
study  of  the  interior  court  of  just  such  a  dilapi- 
dated Byzantine  palace  that  she  was  aware  of 


46  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

the  presence  of  a  restless  young  man,  who  dart- 
ed in  and  out  of  the  doorway,  ran  up  and  down 
the  staircases,  and  thrust  his  head  now  over 
one  balcony  and  now  through  an  arch,  evident- 
ly seeking  a  good  point  of  view  from  which  to 
photograph  the  very  bit  which  she  was  sketch- 
ing. He  carried  his  easel  from  spot  to  spot, 
but  at  length  attempted  to  set  it  up  behind  Tib 
and  to  take  the  view  from  over  her  head.  See- 
ing that  her  camp  stool  had  been  placed  too 
near  the  wall  to  give  him  sufficient  room,  Tib 
obligingly  moved  aside,  or  attempted  to  do  so  ; 
but  the  young  man,  in  an  agony  of  polite  re- 
monstrance, held  her  easel  in  place,  assuring 
her  that  it  did  not  discommode  him  in  the  least. 

In  his  nervousness  he  first  took  a  photograph 
of  the  easel,  and  when  Tib  assured  him  that 
this  must  be  the  case,  he  tried  again. 

"I  am  sure  that  is  perfect,"  he  said  grate- 
fully ;  "  two  heads  are  better  than  one,"  and 
then  he  recognized  the  Madonna  face.  In  his 
agitation  he  overturned  her  sketch-box,  and 
with  a  wild  dash  for  .the  scattered  tubes, 
bumped  his  head  against  hers. 

"  Oh  !  are  they  ?"  Tib  replied  merrily  ;  and 
then  checked  her  laughter  as  she  saw  that  the 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR— SKETCHING   TRIPS.       47 

shock  had  opened  the  shutter  of  his  camera 
and  ruined  the  negative  just  taken. 

A  dogged  look  of  determination  had  settled 
upon  the  young  man's  countenance.  He  would 
not  be  embarrassed  by  this  foolish  girl  simply 
because  she  had  a  beautiful  face,  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  deliberately  take  two  carefully  timed 
photographs,  and  only  discovered,  when  he  de- 
veloped them,  that  they  were  both  on  the  same 
plate,  and  his  only  success  of  the  morning  was 
a  capital  negative  of  Tib's  easel. 

"Decidedly,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  prefer 
the  literary  genius  who  keeps  out  of  sight  to 
this  pretty  girl,  who  is  always  appropriating  to 
herself  the  most  desirable  situations  and  get- 
ting in  the  way  with  miserable  sloppy  water- 
colors,  and  otherwise  discomposing  serious 
workers." 

By  which  observation  it  will  be  seen  that 
their  paths  had  crossed  before,  and  with  dis- 
comfiture to  the  young  amateur  photographer. 
Winnie  had  been  conscious  of  this  ;  for  several 
days  past  she  had  noticed  the  photographic 
outfit  in  the  different  Byzantine  palaces  where 
they  had  gone  to  sketch.  The  owner  had  evi- 
dently either  been  photographing  there  or  had 


48  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

sent  his  apparatus  on  in  advance.  Why  was  it 
that  until  now  the  photographer  himself  had 
not  appeared  upon  the  scene  3  On  thinking  it 
over,  she  had  noticed  an  opening  of  doors,  a 
mysterious  bobbing  in  and  out  of  a  head,  foot- 
steps coming  and  going.  Such  avoidance  must 
be  intentional ;  he  had  found  the  ground  occu- 
pied and  had  retired,  until  grown  desperate  of 
ever  being  able  to  achieve  his  own  wishes,  he 
had  endeavored  boldly  but  unsuccessfully  to 
photograph  the  view  which  Tib  was  paint- 
ing. 

"  Where  have  we  ever  seen  this  young  man  ?" 
she  asked  of  Tib.  "  His  face  is  familiar,  and 
yet  I  cannot  remember  where  we  have  met 
him." 

"  I  remember,"  Tib  replied  ;  "  while  we  were 
amusing  ourselves  with  trying  to  reproduce  the 
chatter  of  an  afternoon  tea  at  the  first  of  Ade- 
laide's receptions  which  we  attended,  he  was 
standing  by  the  piano  looking  over  the  music." 

"  Of  course ;  with  that  malicious-looking 
girl." 

"  I  did  not  notice  the  girl,  but  I  remember 
thinking  at  the  time  that  he  would  have  been 
handsome  if  he  had  not  looked  so  angry.  It 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR— SKETCHING  TRIPS.      49 

was  a  strange  look  to  have  on  one's  face  at  a 
tea." 

"  He  was  angry  at  our  talk,  Tib." 

"  I  would  be  very  much  mortified  if  I  thought 
that  he  had  heard  it." 

"  But  he  did,  and  misunderstood  it  delicious- 
ly.  He  thinks  us  a  couple  of  rattle-tongued 
idiots  ;  and  it  serves  him  right  for  being  so 
slow  of  comprehension.  1  never  enjoyed  any- 
thing more  in  my  life." 

"  Winnie,  is  it  possible  that  you  ran  on  and 
let  me  disgrace  myself  in  that  way,  knowing 
that  this  young  man  heard  what  we  were  say- 
ing I" 

"Certainly;  but  he  brought  it  on  himself. 
I  heard  him  tell  the  malicious  girl  that  he  in- 
tended to  form  an  estimate  of  your  mind  by 
your  next  remark.  I  hope  he  found  it  .compre- 
hensive enough.  Now,  don't  spoil  the  joke  by 
explaining  everything  the  next  time  you  see 
him." 

A  deep  red  spot  burned  on  Tib's  cheek. 
"  Explain  !  I  never  desire  to  see  him  again." 

"  I  do,"  said  Winnie  to  herself  ;  "  and  if  I  do 
I  will  give  him  more  food  for  reflection.  He  is, 
better  than  a  circus." 


50       WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

They  stopped  at  Professor  Waite's  studio  on 
their  return  that  day,  and  he  criticised  their 
work. 

"  Why  have  you  confined  yourselves  to  the 
Byzantine  palaces  ?"  he  asked.  "  There  is  some 
such  lovely  tracery  in  the  Gothic  arcades." 

"  We  are  coming  to  them,"  Tib  replied,  "  but 
we  want  to  take  them  chronologically.  We 
are  very  much  interested  in  Venetian  history, 
and  we  are  reading  now  about  the  Fourth  Cru- 
sade. " 

"  That  is  odd,  very  odd,"  replied  the  profes- 
sor. "  I  have  a  friend  who  is  writing  a  book 
on  the  palaces  of  Venice  ;  he  is  treating  them 
chronologically,  too,  and  has  promised  to  read 
his  chapter  on  the  Byzantine  period  to  our 
friends  next  Thursday  afternoon." 

"  We  will  surely  be  here,"  said  Tib.  "  It 
will  be  a  privilege  to  have  some  one  direct  our 
studies." 

"  Yes,  he  is  an  interesting  man  ;  and  I  want 
you  to  leave  this  water-color  with  me,  for  he 
was  asking  me  the  other  day  if  I  could  recom- 
mend 6ome  artist  who  would  assist  him  in 
illustrating  the  work.  And  bring  pen-and-ink 
drawings  of  some  of  the  Gothic  tracery ;  they 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR—  SKETCHING  TRIPS.       51 

will  be  just  what  he  will  want  for  the  next 
chapters.  You  may  have  seen  my  friend,  for 
he  lives  in  this  house  and  occasionally  sits  on 
the  balcony." 

"Is  he  particularly  fond  of  Renaissance 
architecture  ?' '  Winnie  asked. 

"  Of  all  good  styles  ;  and  now  I  think  of  it, 
he  did  say  that  he  had  been  made  especially 
indignant  by  Ruskin's  injustice  to  the  Renais- 
sance. He  said,  too,  that  he  was  so  fond  of 
the  sunrise  over  the  Salute  that  he  never  missed 
seeing  it. " 

"  I  was  sure  of  it.  It  is  our  friend,' '  Winnie 
exclaimed  enthusiastically. 

"  Then  you  have  already  met  him  ?' ' 

"  Not  exactly ;  but  we  know  him  all  the 
same — a  venerable  man  with  gray  hair  and 
beard,  with  some  such  name  as  Hobbes  or  Dob- 
son.  I  see  by  your  smile  that  I  am  right. " 

Tib  was  not  so  sure,  for  the  professor's  smile 
was  quizzical  as  he  said :  "  Be  sure  to  be  on 
hand  early  next  Thursday,  and  you  shall  see 
for  yourself  how  nearly  you  have  guessed." 

A  few  evenings  later  a  very  odd  thing  hap- 
pened. The  girls  were  returning  with  Profes- 
sor Waite  from  safesta  at  San  Marco  ;  the  piazza 


52  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE, 

had  been  illuminated,  and  it  was  a  wonderful 
sight  to  see  every  outline  of  the  architecture 
traced  in  little  jets  of  flame.  It  was  a  moon- 
light night,  and  as  they  slipped  homeward 
through  the  side  canals,  objects  on  the  lighted 
side  were  vividly  distinct  while  the  shadows 
opposite  were  inky  black.  Tib  was  watching 
the  Rembrandtesque  effects  with  keen  delight 
when  she  was  awakened  from  her  reverie  by 
the  professor  giving  an  order  to  Tribolo. 

"  You  know  the  little  calle  by  the  side  of 
our  palazzo  ?" 

"  Yes,  signor,  the  Calle  del  Espirito.  No 
one  takes  it  at  night,  for  it  is  haunted." 

"  Nonsense  ;  it  is  the  nearest  way  home  ; 
and  see,  there  is  a  gondola  ahead  of  us  turning 
into  it.  You  need  have  no  fear,  for  we  have 
company." 

The/etea  or  cloth  top  of  the  leading  gondola 
had  been  removed,  for  the  night  was  warm, 
and  they  could  see  that  it  had  a  single  occu- 
pant, a  man  in  a  black  cloak.  The  gondola 
kept  steadily  in  front  of  them  until  it  came  in 
front  of  the  walled-up  door,  when  it  paused  in 
the  shadow.  Tribolo  slackened  his  speed  and 
all  watched.  Suddenly  the  gondola  shot  out 


THE  CLOSED  DOOR-SKETCHING  TRIPS.       53 

into  the  brilliantly  lighted  Grand  Canal,  and 
they  saw  that  the  man  had  vanished. 

"  He  went  in  at  that  door  !' '  Tib  exclaimed. 

"Impossible,"  Winnie  replied.  "We  saw 
when  we  last  passed  here  that  it  was  walled 
up." 

Tribolo  was  trembling  so  that  he  could  scarce- 
ly guide  the  gondola.  "  Si,  signorita,"  he  said. 
"  I  told  you,  it  is  the  spirit." 


CHAPTER  Y. 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND   OLD  DANDOLO. 

this  temple-porch, 
Old  as  he  was,  so  near  his  hun- 
dredth year, 
And  blind — his  eyes  put  out — 

did  Dandolo 
Stand  forth,  displaying  on  his 

crown  the  cross. 
There  did  he  stand  erect,  invin- 
cible, 
Though  wan  his  cheeks  and  wet 

with  many  tears, 
For  in  his  prayers  he  had  been 

weeping  much  ; 
And  now  the  pilgrims  and  the 

people  wept 
With  admiration,  saying  in  their 

hearts, 

'  Surely  those  aged  limbs  have  need  of  rest ! ' 
There  did  he  stand  with  his  old  armor  on, 
Ere,  gonfalon  in  hand  that  streamed  aloft, 
As  conscious  of  his  glorious  destiny, 
So  soon  to  float  o'er  mosque  and  minaret, 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        55 

He  sailed  away,  five  hundred  gallant  ships, 
Their  lofty  sides  hung  with  emblazoned  shields, 
Following  his  track  to  fame.     He  went  to  die  ; 
But  of  his  trophies  four  arrived  erelong, 
Snatched  from  destruction— the  four  steeds  divine, 
That  strike  the  ground  resounding  with  their  feet, 
And  from  their  nostrils  snort  ethereal  flame 
Over  that  very  porch." 

ROGERS. 

THE  next  afternoon,  as  Winnie  and  Tib  were 
returning  from  their  sketching  earlier  than 
usual,  in  order  to  be  in  time  for  Adelaide's  re- 
ception, they  were  greeted  by  a  hearty  shout 
from  an  approaching  gondola. 

It  was  John  Nash,  Stacey  Fitz-  Simmons 's 
friend  and  protege,  who  had  decided  to  return 
to  America  by  way  of  Italy. 

"  You  must  come  with  us,"  Winnie  urged, 
after  the  first  greetings.  "  Adelaide  will  be 
glad  to  welcome  you  to  Venice"." 

u  Nothing  would  please  me  better  than  to 
see  Professor  and  Mrs.  Waite,  whom  I  have 
not  met  since  the  summer  the  professor  had  his 
studio  in  the  windmill  at  Shinnecock  ;  but  you 
know  I  am  as  out  of  place  at  a  reception  as 
Noah's  ark  would  be  among  these  gondolas." 

But    John's   objections  were  quickly  over- 


56  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

ruled,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be  taken  a 
willing  captive. 

"I  say,"  he  exclaimed,  in  admiration,  as 
they  approached  the  palace,  "  you  don't  mean 
to  tell  me  that  the  VVaites  live  there  !  It  must 
cost  them  a  fortune." 

"They  and  we  have  the  second  floor  to- 
gether," Winnie  replied— "  the  suite  with  that 
arcade  of  beautiful  traceried  windows.  The 
house  resembles  the  Ca'  d'Oro,  and  the  apart- 
ments on  the  second  story  are  more  lofty  than 
either  of  the  others." 

"  That  is  odd,"  John  replied,  "  for  I  should 
say,  judging  from  the  outside,  that  the  height 
of  the  first  and  second  floors  was  precisely  the 
same." 

"Oh,  no,"  Winnie  replied  positively;  "I 
have  been  inside  the  janitor's  apartment  on  the 
water-level,  and  it  is  not  nearly  so  high  studded 
as  Adelaide's.  You  are  right,  though,  about 
the  effect  from  the  exterior.  The  only  ex- 
planation is  that  there  must  be  a  little  mez- 
zanine story  ;  but  as  many  times  as  I  have  been 
here  I  have  never  noticed  any  landing  or  doors 
opening  on  the  staircase  until  we  reach  Ade- 
laide's apartment." 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        57 

They  stood  within  the  high  entrance  hall 
now,  and  could  see  that  Winnie  was  correct ; 
the  staircase  led  straight  up,  without  a  stop  or 
turn,  to  the  level  of  the  rooms  occupied  by  the 
Waites. . 

"  The  mezzanine  may  have  a  staircase  of  its 
own  communicating  with  an  entrance  at  the 
side  or  back  of  the  house,"  Tib  suggested  ; 
"  or  it  may  be  arranged  like  our  duplex  flats  in 
America,  and  be  approached  by  a  staircase 
leading  down  from  Adelaide's  suite^  or  upward 
from  the  janitor's." 

"That  seems  sensible,"  Winnie  remarked; 
"  but  how  clever  of  you  to  have  guessed  at  that 
explanation  !" 

"  I  did  not  guess,"  Tib  replied.  "  I  seem  to 
remember  to  have  read  somewhere  that  Vene- 
tian houses  were  arranged  in  that  way." 

"  It  will  be  very  easy  to  satisfy  our  curios- 
ity," said  Winnie.  "There  is  the  janitor;  I 
am  going  to  ask  him." 

The  janitor,  however,  declared  that  he  knew 
nothing  of  any  intermediate  story  He  occu- 
pied the  lower  floor,  and  had  gone  over  Profes- 
sor Waite's  apartment  many  times  when  it  was 
vacant ;  there  was  no  mezzanine  floor.  But  the 


58  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

girls  were  not  satisfied  ;  and  after  the  man  had 
retired  into  his  den,  John  said  :  "  I  noticed,  in 
the  glimpse  which  I  just  had  into  that  room, 
that  not  only  was  it  much  lower  than  this  en- 
trance hall,  but  that  the  windows  on  the  canal 
ran  up  to  and  apparently  beyond  the  ceiling, 
for  they  had  square  mouldings  across  the  top, 
while  on  the  outside  they  are  much  taller  and 
are  arched." 

"  Might  not  the  arches  over  the  top  be  sim- 
ply an  ornamental  feature  of  the  facade?" 
Winnie  asked. 

"  No,"  Tib  replied  ;  "  there  are  rooms  behind 
those  arches,  for  I  have  several  times  of  late 
seen  a  man  seated  within  one  of  the  arches. 
He  seems  to  use  the  room  as  a  sort  of  work- 
shop. Yes,  I  am  positive  now  that  he  was 
printing  photographs  at  the  window,  for  I  saw 
him  distinctly  enough  to  recognize  him,  and  it 
was  the  young  photographer  who  had  such  a 
time  in  the  courtyard  where  we  were  sketch- 
ing." 

"  Then  the  janitor  lied  ;  and  yet  he  had  the 
most  innocent  expression. " 

"  Perhaps  he  does  not  know  of  the  existence 
of  these  rooms,"  said  Tib  ;  and  her  voice  had  a 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        59 

mechanical  sound,  as  though  she  were  reading 
something  from  a  book.  "  It  may  be  a  secret 
chamber. " 

Winnie  laughed  heartily.  "  Secret  fiddle- 
sticks, Tib.  You  are  as  absurd  now  as  you 
were  clever  before.  Whatever  put  such  a 
romantic  idea  into  your  head  ?  You  must 
have  been  reading  the  '  Mysteries  of  Udolfo.' ' 

Tib  blushed  ;  she  was  usually  very  practical 
and  unimaginative,  and  she  was  puzzled  as  to 
what  could  have  suggested  such  a  fancy,  and 
quite  ashamed  of  it. 

"  It  is  a  mystery,  all  the  same,"  said  John 
Nash  ;  "  but  Miss  Smith's  suggestion  that  the 
rooms  may  communicate  with  Mrs.  Waite's  is 
still  to  be  investigated.  She  may  be  able  to 
explain  everything. ' ' 

"That  is  true,"  Winnie  assented,  "for  the 
young  man  that  Tib  speaks  of  was  at  one  of  her 
receptions. " 

Adelaide  greeted  them,  on  their  entrance, 
with  an  eager  "  The  contessa  is  here ;  let  me 
present  you."  Then  she  recognized  John 
Nash,  welcomed  him  cordially,  and  handed  him 
over  to  her  husband,  and  led  the  gids  toward 
the  studio. 


60  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

11  Who  ?•«  the  contessa  V  Winnie  asked. 

"  She  is  the  owner  of  this  palazzo.  She  lives 
in  the  upper  story  and  rents  the  more  desirable 
apartments.  She  is  charming — just  what  a 
contessa  should  be." 

"  If  she  is  the  owner  of  this  house,  perhaps 
she  or  you  can  settle  a  question  which  is 
troubling  us  very  much  at  present.  Is  there  or 
is  there  not  a  suite  of  rooms  between  your  own 
and  the  janitor's  floor  ?" 

"  I  can  settle  that ;  there  is  no  such  suite,  I 
am  positive." 

"  And  no  trace  of  any  other  staircase  or  en- 
trance to  the  house  than  the  one  on  the  Grand 
Canal?" 

"  Of  that  I  am  not  so  sure.  I  only  know 
that  our  apartment,  which  occupies  this  entire 
floor,  opens  on  no  other  staircase.  The  con- 
tessa will  tell  you." 

"  I  shall  never  be  able  to  muster  up  courage  to 
speak  to  her,"  said  Tib,  "  my  Italian  is  so  poor." 

"  But  Contessa  Zanelli  speaks  English," 
Adelaide  replied,  presenting  Tib  to  a  motherly 
lady  with  beautiful  white  hair,  who  greeted 
her  in  such  perfect  English  that  Winnie  ex- 
claimed in  surprise. 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        61 

"It  is  little  wonder,"  the  contessa  replied 
with  a  smile,  "  since  it  is  my  native  language. 
I  am  an  American,  and  though  I  have  not  re- 
turned to  the  States  but  once  since  my  mar- 
riage, I  am  proud  of  my  country,  and  am  glad 
to  meet  Americans.  I  have  been  so  glad  to 
have  my  son  know  Professor  and  Mrs.  Waite, 
for  hitherto  the  American  women  whom  he  has 
met  have  not  been  of  the  serious  type  which  I 
most  admire.  We  see  plenty  of  beautiful  girls, 
rich,  aristocratic,  gay,  and  even  brilliant  so- 
cially, but  few  earnest  students,  jand  my  son  is, 
first  of  all,  a  student." 

Tib  listened  in  a  dazed  way.  She  had  for- 
gotten to  ask  about  the  mysterious  mezzanine 
apartment ;  she  knew  now  why  it  had  seemed 
quite  natural  to  her  that  there  should  be  such  a 
secret  chamber  or  suite  of  chambers — the  reve- 
lation had  come  with  Adelaide's  mention  of  the 
name  Zanelli.  This  was  Lolo's  mother,  this 
Lolo's  home,  with  its  queer  little  suite  of  rooms 
which  he  had  discovered,  and  of  which  no  one 
else  knew.  And  Lolo  himself — where  was  he  ? 
The  contessa  was  speaking  now  in -reply  to 
Winnie's  praise  of  Venice.  "All  Venetians  love 
Venice  intensely.  My  son  has  seen  the  princi- 


62  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

pal  cities  of  Europe,  but  none  of  them,  for  him, 
is  so  interesting  or  so  lovely  as  his  native  city. 
His  love  for  her  from  boyhood  has  been  a  pas- 
sion. When  a  child  I  took  him  with  me  to 
America,  and  he  said  to  me  one  day,  '  Mamma, 
I  can  understand  just  how  Jacopo  Foscari  felt 
when  he  came  back  to  Venice,  after  he  was 
exiled,  at  the  risk  of  his  life.  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  jump  into  the  ocean  and  swim  all  the 
way  to  Venice.'  I  do  not  know  where  he 
learned  the  story  of  Foscari — not  from  me  cer- 
tainly ;  but  it  made  a  great  impression  on 
Mm." 

Tib  felt  like  exclaiming :  "  It  was  I  who  told 
Lolo  about  the  Foscari."  She  remembered 
how  gayly  they  would  applaud  the  fiddler 
crabs  as  they  swam  back  to  shore,  and  she  was 
filled  with  a  great  longing  to  see  her  little  play- 
fellow and  to  talk  with  him  about  the  old  days. 
Winnie  wondered  that  Tib  was  so  silent ;  but 
the  contessa  chatted  blandly  on,  with  all  a 
mother's  sublime  confidence  that  her  son  must 
be  the  most  interesting  subject  of  conversation 
to  the  world  at  large. 

"  Angelo  is  writing  a  book  on  Venice,  and 
Professor  Waite  has  asked  him  to  read  one  of 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        63 

the  chapters  here  this  afternoon.  He  has  had 
an  idea  that  he  can  best  tell  the  history  of  the 
city  and  the  people  by  relating  the  stories  of 
the  houses.  He  has  been  taking  photographs 
of  the  old  palaces  with  which  to  illustrate  his 
book.  Ah  !  here  he  is." 

There  was  a  little  flutter  of  people  settling 
into  chairs,  for  Professor  Waite  had  announced 
the  reading.  Tib  sank  upon  the  divan  beside 
the  contessa,  but  did  not  look  up.  She  had  a 
feeling  which  she  knew  would  be  disappointed, 
that  her  boy  friend  Lolo  was  standing  there  in 
his  blue-and-white  jersey  and  the  crimson 
purse -shaped  cap.  Winnie  gave  a  surprised 
gasp  and  whispered  :  "  It  isn't  the  elderly  Eng- 
lish architect  after  all,  Tib.  Look,  it  is  that 
very  superior  young  man  whom  we  intrigued 
so  successfully  with  our  composite  chatter,  and 
who  was  so  embarrassed  with  his  photography 
in  the  old  palace." 

Tib  looked  up.  The  young  man  was  not  em- 
barrassed now.  His  face  had  a  sad  expression, 
but  lighted  with  enthusiasm  as  he  warmed  to 
his  subject.  He  described  the  birth  of  Venice 
— at  first  only  a  seabird's  nest  among  the 
lagoons  and  a  home  for  the  fishermen  of  Padua  \ 


64  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

then,  as  Attila  swept  down  upon  Northern 
Italy  in  452,  a  refuge  from  the  Huns,  and  a 
century  later  from  Alboin  and  his  Lombards. 
He  told  how  those  two  invasions  decided  the 
fugitives  to  make  of  their  hiding-place  a  per- 
manent ho'me,  and  they  returned  no  more  to 
tfyeir  ruined  cities  except  to  gather  from  their 
former  homes  such  precious  marbles  and  col- 
umns which  the  spoiler  had  left  behind  ;  and 
these,  in  love  and  reverence  for  their  associa- 
tions, they  built  first  into  their  churches  and 
afterward  into  their  homes.  The  people  of  Al- 
tino  had  settled  upon  one  of  the  islands,  which, 
in  memory  of  the  towers  of  their  ancient  home, 
they  named  Torcello,  and  their  church  was  the 
first  which  was  so  decorated.  This  church  was 
taken  down  in  the  tenth  century,  when  the 
patriarch  Orso,  of  noble  and  touching  history, 
built  the  cathedral  which  still  stands  on  the 
lonely  island ;  but  the  marbles  brought  from 
Altino  were  again  carefully  built  into  its  walls, 
and  may  be  seen  to-day.  Such  was  the  first 
and  noblest  Venice — a  cluster  of  villages,  strag- 
gling along  the  sides  of  each  muddy,  marshy 
island — no  columns  on  the  Piazzetta,  and  the 
great  Piazza  a  piece  of  waste  land.  But  already 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        65 

the  lagoon  was  full  of  boats,  and  Venice  grew 
like  a  young  plant,  like  the  quick-spreading 
vegetation  of  her  own  warm,  wet  marshes,  day 

by  day. 

"  A  few  in  fear 

Flying  away  from  him  whose  boast  it  was 

That  the  grass  grew  not  where  his  horse  had  trod, 

Gave  birth  to  Venice.     Like  the  waterfowl, 

They  built  their  nests  among  the  ocean  waves  ; 

And  where  the  sands  were  shifting,  as  the  wind 

Blew  from  the  north  or  south — where  they  that  came 

Had  to  make  sure  the  ground  they  stood  upon, 

Rose,  like  an  exhalation  from  the  deep, 

A  vast  metropolis,  with  glistening  spires, 

With  theatres,  basilicas,  adorned  ; 

A  scene  of  light  and  glory,  a  dominion 

That  has  endured  the  longest  among  men." 

"Do  you  ask  me,"  said  the  speaker,  "how 
from  the  simple  homes  of  these  pioneer  refu- 
gees there  was  soon  developed  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  styles  of  architecture,  the  most  luxu- 
rious, .  costly,  and  perfect  in  its  satisfying  of 
artistic  requirements,  that  the  world  has  known  ? 
how  it  happened  that  this  style  blossomed  im- 
mediately into  perfection,  and  that  with  the 
first  financial  success  of  the  city  there  appeared, 
instead  of  the  tasteless  gropings  after  preten- 
tious display  of  a  people  newly  rich,  that  ex- 


66  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

quisite  and  '  fairest  "Venice,  a  city  of  graceful 
arcades  and  gleaming  walls  veined  with  azure 
and  warm  with  gold,  and  fretted  with  white 
sculpture,  like  frost  upon  forest  branches  '  ?  I 
reply  that  this  beauty  had  a  double  origin,  and 
sprang  both  from  honor  and  dishonor.  The 
Byzantine  style,  as  its  name  suggests,  was  not 
invented  in  Venice,  but  borrowed  fully  devel- 
oped from  the  East.  The  great  peculiarity  and 
beauty  of  Oriental  architecture  in  distinction 
from  all  other  architecture  is  its  abundant  use 
of  glowing  color.  Venetian  travellers  had  seen 
the  Eastern  buildings,  and  were  taken  captive 
by  their  beauty.  As  Ruskin  has  written,  '  the 
Venetians  deserve  especial  note  as  the  only  Euro- 
pean people  who  appear  to  have  sympathized 
to  the  full  with  the  great  (color)  instinct  of  the 
Eastern  races.  They,  indeed,  were  compelled 
to  bring  artists  from  Constantinople  to  design 
the  mosaics  of  St.  Mark's  ;  but  they  rapidly 
developed  the  system,  and  while  the  burghers 
and  barons  of  the  North  were  building  their 
dark  streets  and  grisly  castles  of  oak  and  sand- 
stones, the  merchants  of  Venice  were  covering 
their  palaces  with  porphyry  and  gold.'  But 
there  was  another  and  more  practical  reason 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO,        67 

why  Venice  adopted  this  style.  All  stone  had 
to  be  brought  from  a  distance,  while  brick  could 
be  manufactured  at  hand.  It  was  easier  to 
build  the  cathedral  in  its  mass  of  brick,  and  then 
to  encrust  it  with  thin  layers  of  precious  mar- 
bles, and  adorn  it  first  with  pillars  and  sculp- 
ture which  they  had  brought  from  the  ruins  of 
the  cities  from  which  their  forefathers  had 
been  exiled,  and  later  which  their  merchant 
ships  brought  back  from  foreign  ports,  than  to 
transport  from  inland  quarries  huge  blocks  of 
coarser  building  stone  in  such  quantity  as 
would  be  needed  to  build  so  large  an  edifice  as 
St.  Mark's.  So  the  cathedral  of  San  Marco 
was  built  and  was  consecrated  in  the  eleventh 
century  in  the  dogeship  of  Vital  Falier,  and 
Venice  may  well  love  and  be  proud  of  San 
Marco.  Walk  through  the  Piazza,  whose 
arches,  as  Ruskin  has  said,  seem  struck  back, 
leaving  the  great  square  open  in  a  kind  of  awe, 
and  look  upon  that  vision  which  he  so  well  de- 
scribes :  '  A  multitude  of  pillars  and  white 
domes  clustered  into  a  long,  low  pyramid  of 
colored  light ;  a  treasure  heap  it  seems,  partly 
of  gold  and  partly  of  opal  and  mother-of-pearl, 
hollowed  beneath  into  five  great  vaulted 


68  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

porches,  ceiled  with  fair  mosaic,  and  beset  with 
sculpture  of  alabaster  clear  as  amber  and  deli- 
cate as  ivory,  sculpture,  fantastic  and  involved, 
of  palm  leaves  and  lilies,  and  grapes  and  pome- 
granates, and  birds  clinging  and  fluttering 
among  the  branches,  all  twined  together  into 
an  endless  network  of  buds  and  plumes  ;  and 
in  the  midst  of  it  the  solemn  forms  of  angels 
sceptred  and  robed  to  the  feet  and  leaning  to 
each  other  across  the  gates.  And  round  the 
walls  of  the  porches  there  are  set  pillars  of 
variegated  stones,  jasper  and  porphyry,  and 
deep  green  serpentine  spotted  with  flakes  of 
snow,  and  marbles  that  half  refuse  and  half 
yield  to  the  sunshine,  Cleopatra-like,  their 
bluest  veins  to  kiss  :  and  above  them,  in  the 
broad  archivolts,  a  continuous  chain  of  language 
and  of  life,  and  above  these  another  range  of 
glittering  pinnacles,  mixed  with  white  arches 
edged  with  scarlet  flowers — a  confusion  of  de- 
light, amid  which  the  breasts  of  the  Greek 
horses  are  seen  blazing  in  their  breadth  of 
golden  strength,  and  the  St.  Mark's  lion  lifted 
on  a  blue  field  covered  with  stars,  until  at  last, 
as  if  in  ecstasy,  the  crests  of  the  arches  break 
into  a  marble  foam  and  toss  themselves  far  into 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        69 

the  blue  sky  in  flashes  and  wreaths  of  sculp- 
tured spray,  as  if  the  breakers  on  the  Lido 
shore  had  been  frostbound  before  they  fell  and 
the  sea  nymphs  had  inlaid  them  with  coral  and 
amethyst.'  Alas  !  the  beauty  which  the  great 
word  painter  describes  is  not  all  of  that  early 
and  innocent  period.  We  had  become  accus- 
tomed to  build  from  ruins,  to  inserting  older 
fragments  into  modern  buildings,  and  Ruskin, 
with  all  his  admiration,  does  not  gloss  the 
truth.  The  practice  which  began  in  the  affec- 
tions of  a  fugitive  nation  was  prolonged  in  the 
pride  of  a  conquering  one ;  and  beside  the 
memorials  of  departed  happiness  were  elevated 
the  trophies  of  returning  victory.  The  ship  of 
war  brought  home  more  marble  in  triumph 
than  the  merchant  vessel  in  speculation,  and 
the  front  of  St.  Mark's  became  rather  a  shrine 
at  which  to  dedicate  the  splendor  of  miscel- 
laneous spoil  than  the  organized  expression  of 
any  fixed  architectural  law  or  religious  emotion ! 
And  not  the  cathedral  alone,  for  if  the  Crusaders 
could  satisfy  their  consciences  with  the  plea  that 
they  were  stripping  the  infidel  for  the  glory  of 
the  Church,  it  was  but  a  step  farther  to  carry 
the  excuse  for  such  robbery  to  the  enrichment  of 


70  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  '  the  lofty  walls 

Of  those  tall  piles  and  sea-girt  palaces, 
Whose  porphyry  pillars  and  whose  costly  fronts 
Fraught  with  Orient  spoils  of  many  marbles, 
Like  altars  ranged  along  the  Grand  Canal, 
Seem  each  a  trophy  of  some  mighty  deed. ' 

"  Seem,  did  I  say  ?"  said  the  speaker ; 
"  nay,  are  ;  for  these  Byzantine  palaces,  as 
well  as  the  noble  columns  of  the  Piazza  and  the 
bronze  horses  above  the  portals  of  San  Marco, 
were  direct  trophies  of  the  Fourth  Crusade, 
which  had  its  inception  in  high  and  holy  en- 
thusiasm,  and  was  adorned  by  many  a  deed  of 
valor  and  self-sacrifice,  devotion  to  religion  and 
to  country,  but  which,  alas  !  though  these  high 
motives  led  at  the  outset,  degenerated,  through 
the  very  desire  of  enriching  and  beautifying 
Venice,  into  a  mere  piratical  expedition,  so  that 
these  beautiful  monuments  witness  forever  to 
her  shame  as  well  as  her  glory.  Better  that 
these  beautiful  statues,  pillars,  mosaics,  had 
remained  in  Constantinople  to  decorate  the 
harems .  and  mosques  of  the  infidel,  rather 
than,  as  spoils  of  robbers,  flaunt  their  beauty 
in  our  till  then  simple  city,  and  introducing  the 
Saracen  style  of  architecture,  bring  with  it  cus- 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        71 

toms  of  luxury,  arts,  and  learning  banned  by 
the  Christian  Church,  and  hitherto  undreamed 
of  by  our  people." 

With  a  quick  movement  of  his  hand  he 
threw  back  a  long  lock  of  black  hair  which  had 
drooped  over  his  forehead,  shadowing  it  as  he 
murmured  the  last  words,  and  told  with  pride 
how  the  six  French  knights  came  to  Venice  as 
messengers  of  the  Crusaders  to  arrange  for  the 
transportation  of  the  army  by  sea  to  the  Holy 
Land — for  Venice  was  the  carrying  power  of  the 
world,  and  the  expedition  needed  her  ships. 
He  read  Geoffroy  de  Villehardouin's  own  ac- 
count of  the  address  which  he  made  when  bid- 
den by  the  Doge  Enrico  Dandolo  to  speak  for 
the  knights  to  the  people  assembled  in  the 
church  of  St.  Mark's. 

"  '  Messieurs,'  said  the  French  knight,  '  the 
noblest  and  most  powerful  barons  of  France 
have  sent  us  to  you  to  pray  you  to  have 
pity  upon  Jerusalem,  in  bondage  to  the  Turk, 
and  for  the  love  of  God  to  accompany  us  to 
avenge  the  shame  of  Christ ;  and  knowing  that 
no  nation  is  so  powerful  on  the  seas  as  you, 
they  have  charged  us  to  implore  your  aid,  and 
not  to  rise  from  our  knees  till  you  have  con- 


72        WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

sented  to  have  pity  upon  the  Holy  Land.' 
With  this,  the  six  ambassadors  knelt  down 
weeping.  The  doge  and  all  the  people  then 
cried  out  with  one  voice,  raising  their  hands  to 
heaven,  '  We  grant  it,  we  grant  it ! '  And  so 
great  was  the  sound  that  nothing  ever  equalled 
it." 

Venice  had  pledged  to  provide  transport  for 
four  thousand  five  hundred  cavaliers  and  thirty 
thousand  footmen,  with  provisions  for  a  year, 
for  \vhich  the  Frenchmen  were  to  pay  well  and 
to  send  out  a  fleet  of  her  own  of  fifty  galleys. 
This  was  in  the  winter  of  1201  ;  it  was  nearly  a 
year  later  when  the  expedition  arrived  in  Ven- 
ice, and  then  the  knights  found  that  they  had 
promised  to  pay  the  Venetians  more  than  they 
could  raise.  The  Venetians  proposed  that  in 
lieu  of  the  full  price  they  should  pause  on  their 
way  and  subdue  Zara,  which  had  rebelled 
against  their  rule.  This  was  all  that  was  in- 
tended at  that  time,  for  many  of  the  Venetians 
had  become  Crusaders  and  were  as  eager  as  the 
French  knights  to  rescue  the  Holy  Sepulchre, 
while  a  stroke  for  their  country  on  the  way 
was  not  inconsistent  with  this  high  enthusi- 
asm. 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        73 

Angelo  Zanelli  read  on  from  the  quaint 
chronicle. 

"  '  One  day,  upon  a  Sunday,  all  the  people 
of  the  city,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  barons 
and  pilgrims,  met  in  San  Marco.  Before  the 
Mass  began  the  doge  rose  in  the  pulpit  and 
spoke  to  the  people  in  this  manner  :  "  Signori, 
you  are  associated  with  the  greatest  nation  in 
the  world  in  the  most  important  matter  which 
can  be  undertaken  by  men.  I  am  old  and  weak 
and  need  rest ;  but  I  perceive  that  none  can  so 
well  guide  and  govern  you  as  I,  who  am  your 
lord.  If  you  will  consent  that  I  should  take  the 
sign  of  the  cross  for  you  and  direct  you,  and 
that  my  son  should,  in  my  stead,  regulate  the 
affairs  of  the  city,  I  will  go  to  live  and  die  with 
you  and  the  pilgrims." 

"  '  When  they  heard  this,  they  cried  with 
one  voice,  "  Yes,  we  pray  you,  in  the  name  of 
God,  take  it  and  come  with  us. " 

"  '  Then  the  people  of  the  country  and  the 
pilgrims  were  greatly  moved,  and  shed  many 
tears  because  this  heroic  man  had  so  many  rea- 
sons for  remaining  at  home,  being  old.  But  he 
was  strong  and  of  a  great  heart.  He  then  de- 
scended from  the  pulpit  and  knelt  before  the 


74  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

altar  weeping,  and  the  cross  was  sewn  upon  the 
front  of  his  great  cap,  so  that  all  might  see  it. 
And  the  Venetians  that  day  in  great  numbers 
took  the  cross. '  : 

Closing  the  book,  Count  Zanelli  told  how  the 
fleet  sailed  in  October,  how  Zara  succumbed, 
and  how,  while  the  Crusaders  were  in  the  city, 
the  young  Prince  Alexis,  son  of  the  dethroned 
Emperor  of  the  Greeks,  came  to  beg  them  to 
restore  him  to  Constantinople,  where  his  father 
lay  imprisoned  by  an  unnatural  son  who  had 
usurped  the  throne.  The  purpose  of  the  Cru- 
sade was  deflected  still  more,  for  the  fleet  sailed 
at  once  for  Constantinople. 

This  was  Dandolo's  hour.  Apart  from  any 
enthusiasm  which  he  may  have  felt  for  the  lit- 
tle prince,  he  could  not  have  failed  to  recognize 
the  great  advantage  it  would  be  to  Venice  to 
lay  a  masterful  hand  on  Constantinople  and 
dictate  terms  to  the  empire  of  the  East.  The 
count  described  Dandolo's  heroic  bearing  in  the 
siege  in  Gibbon's  admiring  words  : 

"  '  In  the  midst  of  the  conflict  the  doge's 
venerable  and  conspicuous  form  stood  aloft  in 
complete  armor  in  the  prow  of  his  galley.  The 
great  standard  of  St.  Mark  was  displayed  be- 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.       75 

fore  him  ;  his  vessel  was  the  first  that  struck  ; 
and  Dandolo  was  the  first  warrior  on  shore. 
The  nations  admired  the  magnanimity  of  the 
blind  old  man '  (the  Venetian  chronicle  says 
only  '  infirm  of  vision ').  '  On  a  sudden,  by 
an  invisible  hand,  the  banner  of  the  republic 
was  fixed  on  the  rampart,  twenty-five  towers 
were  rapidly  occupied,  and  by  the  cruel  ex- 
pedient of  fire  the  Greeks  were  driven  from  the 
adjacent  quarter.' 

"From  this  point,"  said  the  count,  "the 
glory  ends,  and  the  entanglement  of  mixed 
motives,  sordid  desires,  and  base  personal  am- 
bitions began.  In  midsummer,  1203,  Constan- 
tinople was  taken  and  the  old  king  liberated  ; 
but  it  presently  transpired  that  his  kingdom 
did  not  desire  him  or  his  younger  son.  He 
begged  the  Crusaders  to  remain  to  strengthen 
his  rule,  but  in  spite  of  their  presence  in  the 
Bosphorus  a  revolution  took  place  in  the  city, 
the  young  prince  was  murdered,  and  his  father 
died  of  grief.  Then  the  Crusaders  besieged  the 
city  again  and  put  it  to  the  sword  with  terrible 
slaughter.  '  The  Venetians  only,  who  were  of 
gentler  soul, '  says  Romanin,  l  took  thought  for 
the  preservation  of  those  marvellous  works  of 


76  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

human  genius,  transporting  them  afterward  to 
Venice,  as  they  did  the  four  famous  horses 
which  now  stand  on  the  facade  of  the  great 
Basilica,  along  with  many  columns,  jewels,  and 
precious  stones,  with  which  they  decorated  the 
Pala  d'Oro  and  the  treasury  of  San  Marco.' 

"  '  This  proof  of  gentler  soul  was  equally 
demonstrated,'  Mrs.  Oliphant  remarks,  '  by 
Napoleon  when  he  carried  off  those  same  bronze 
horses  to  Paris  in  the  beginning  of  the  century, 
but  it  was  not  appreciated  by  Italy.' 

"  And  what  of  Dandolo  and  the  Crusaders, 
do  you  ask,  after  the  taking  of  Constantinople  3 
Alas  !  the  original  aim  of  the  expedition  seems 
to  have  been  forgotten.  Only  a  few  of  the 
knights,  true  to  their  first  purpose,  straggled 
on  in  little  bands  to  Palestine  ;  the  others  elect- 
ed Baldwin  of  Flanders  emperor  of  the  East, 
and  themselves  lords  and  suzerains  under  him. 
Venice  received  large  possessions  in  the  East 
and  a  long  list  of  Mediterranean  islands.  She 
was  ready  now  to  marry  the  sea.  But  Dan- 
dolo, who  i/ad  dowered  her  with  glory,  with 
wealth,  with  beauty,  and,  alas  !  with  the  shame 
of  pillage,  died  in  Constantinople  and  was 
buried  with  kingly  honors  in  St.  Sophia.  Bet- 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        77 

ter  for  Venice  if  he  had  given  her  alone  the 
memory  of  his  valor  directed  to  a  single  pur- 
pose, the  service  of  the  cross,  with  no  thought 
of  gain  even  for  his  country  or  the  Church. 
Better  for  the  honor  of  our  city  if  there  had 
been  no  '  trophies  of  his  mighty  deeds,'  '  fraught 
with  Orient  spoils  of  many  marbles, '  no  Byzan- 
tine palaces  in  Venice." 

The  speaker  ceased,  and  for  a  moment  a 
hush  fell  on  his  audience.  Every  one  felt  his 
earnestness  and  recognized  that  here  was  a 
son  of  Venice  who  loved  her  too  intensely  to  be 
gentle  with  her  faults.  She  must  be  perfect, 
this  Venice  of  his  adoration,  all  glorious 
within. 

To  Tib  there  seemed  in  his  sadness  something 
very  personal,  as  though  he  had  some  particu- 
lar cause  to  regret  the  Eastern  conquests  which 
gave  to  Venice  so  much  glory  in  the  eyes  of  an 
unreflecting  world.  Some  ancestor  of  his  must 
have  taken  part  in  this  glory  and  shame,  but 
not  certainly  in  the  robbery  of  Saracenic  build- 
ings of  their  ornaments,  for  the  Palazzo  Zanelli 
was  built  in  a  later  period  and  in  the  Gothic 
style.  Suddenly  there  crossed  her  mind  the 
memory  of  the  bad  man,  the  alchemist  of 


78  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

whom  Lolo  had  told  her,  who  had  practised 
his  black  art  in  the  laboratory  of  the  secret 
apartments,  and  had  been  carried  from  it  to 
ignominious  death. 

Perhaps  the  count  referred  to  him  when  he 
spoke  of  "  learning  banned  by  the  Christian 
Church."  She  was  not  disappointed  in  the  de- 
velopment of  her  old  playmate.  He  had  ful- 
filled the  promise  of  his  childhood,  and  was  the 
same  thoughtful,  gentle  spirit.  Tib  felt  as  if 
they  might  easily  take  up  the  old  friendship, 
for  they  had  each  grown  en  parallel  lines,  and 
yet  with  this  conviction  of  sympathy  there 
,came  to  her  a  strange  feeling  of  shyness,  a  mor- 
bid shrinking  from  obtruding  herself  on  his  at- 
tention. 

She  came  out  of  her  day-dream  of  the  past  to 
hear  a  buzz  of  conversation  about  her.  John 
Nash  was  very  enthusiastic.  He  was  delighted 
with  the  essay  and  wished  to  ask  a  hundred 
questions  of  the  essayist._ 

"  I  shall  look  up  all  these  Byzantine  houses," 
he  said  ;  "  and  I  am  filled  with  a  great  longing 
to  see  the  real  Saracenic  architecture  which  in- 
spired them.  To  do  that  I  suppose  I  ought  to 
go  to  India,  which  is  impossible.  I  cannot  even 


ONE  HOUR  OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.        79 

afford  to  continue  my  trip  to  Constantinople 
and  Cairo." 

"  You  might  go  home  by  way  of  Spain  and 
see  the  mosque  at  Cordova  and  the  Alhambra," 
Winnie  suggested,  "  with  the  other  beautiful 
examples  of  Arabian  architecture  at  Seville. 
You  have  enough  for  a  season's  study  in  the 
cathedral  of  San  Marco  here.  It  is  the  noblest 
specimen  of  Byzantine  architecture  I  know  of, 
and  not,  as  many  suppose,  a  copy  of  St.  Sophia 
at  Constantinople,  but  in  many  respects  very 
different." 

Professor  Waite  had  joined  the  count  on  the 
conclusion  of  his  reading  to  thank  and  con- 
gratulate him.  "By  the  way,"  he  remarked, 
'  *  I  want  you  to  meet  some  friends  of  ours — two 
young  ladies,  artists,  who  are  much  interested 
in  the  palaces  of  Venice,  and  are  making 
studies  of  them.  I  have  here  some  of  their 
water- colors  of  bits  of  the  older  houses  which  I 
would  like  to  show  you." 

To  the  professor's  surprise,  the  count,  usually 
courteous,  grew  frigid.  "  Excuse  me,  my  dear 
sir  ;  but  if  you  refer  to  the  two  young  ladies 
sitting  near  my  mother,  do  not  trouble  yourself 
to  present  me.  I  have  already  met  them  in  a 


80  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

certain  way  ;  and  (forgive  my  rudeness)  I  have 
not  time  now  to  cultivate  new  acquaintances, 
nor  am  I  greatly  interested  in  the  amateur 
efforts  of  artistic  young  ladies. " 

Others  pressed  up  to  meet  the  count,  and  the 
professor,  nonplussed  and  displeased,  had  no 
opportunity  to  say  more.  As  Tib  was  leaving, 
she  handed  him  a  package. 

"  Here  are  some  pen-and-ink  drawings,"  she 
said,  "  which  I  have  been  making  of  the  Gothic 
palaces.  I  shall  bring  you  more,  and  shall  be 
very  proud  if  your  friend  thinks  them  worthy 
to  illustrate  his  book.  Make  any  arrangement 
with  him  you  see  fit,  but  please  let  me  be  anony- 
mous. "  I  would  rather  he  should  not  know  the 
name  of  his  illustrator." 

The  professor,  who  had  been  slightly  embar- 
rassed, was  much  relieved.  "  Good  !"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  let  the  drawings  be  accepted  or  re- 
jected on  their  merits  alone.  My  friend,  who 
is  otherwise  unprejudiced,  has  a  strange  in- 
credulitv  as  to  the  ability  of  women  in  art.  It 
will  be  qune  a  triumph  ;  and  I  shall  enjoy  his 
discomfiture  when  he  ascertains  that  these 
drawings  have  been  made  by  a  young  girl.  It 
may  be  an  assistance  in  keeping  up  the  incog- 


ONE  HOUR   OF  BLIND  OLD  DANDOLO.         81 

nito  if  I  do  not  introduce  him  to  you  this  after- 
noon. " 

"  I  would  ranch  prefer  not  to  meet  him,"  Tib 
replied  hastily  ;  "  but  here  is  John  Nash,  who 
is  quite  eager  to  make  his  acquaintance." 

John  was  accordingly  led  forward  by  the  pro- 
fessor, and  the  two  young  men,  of  such  widely 
different  social  stations  and  education,  soon 
found  that  they  had  much  in  common  in  their 
admiration  of  the  beautiful  buildings  of  Venice. 
•  The  count  invited  John  Nash  to  take  a  gon- 
dola trip  with  him  the  next  day,  and  they 
talked  so  long  together  that  when  John  looked 
for  Winifred  and  Tib,  he  found  that  they  had 
slipped  away. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


ANGELO   ZANELLl'S   SECRET. 

NGELO  ZANELLI  had  two  profound 
causes  for  melancholy — one  person- 
al, the  other  inherited. 
On  his  return  to  Venice 
from  the  trip  taken  to 
America  in  his  boyhood, 
he  had  become  absorbed 
in  his  studies,  entering 
the  University  of  Padua 
early,  and  remaining  in  it 
for  several  post-graduate 
courses.  Returning  again 
to  Venice  after  the  death 

of  his  father,  he  devoted  himself  to  his  mother 
and  to  the  study  of  the  history  of  Venice,  a 
study  which  led  him  finally  to  the  preparation 
of  the  work  upon  which  he  was  now  engaged. 
Angelo's  father  had  never  told  his  wife  the 
story  of  the  alchemist  ancestor,  and  until  his 


ANOELO  ZANELLPS  SECRET.  83 

death  she  had  been  ignorant  of  the  existence  of 
the  mezzanine  story.  But  when  Angelo  came 
back  from  Padua,  and  certain  changes  were 
made  in  the  disposition  of  the  rooms,  he  showed 
her  the  door  behind  the  portrait  and  took  her 
into  the  little  rooms.  To  her  everything  seemed 
very  simple.  It  was  a  doctor's  office,  long  un- 
used ;  and  she  readily  consented  to  its  use  by 
her  son  as  a  study  and  dark  room  for  his 
photography. 

Widowhood  had  rendered  the  contessa  averse 
to  society,  and  they  had  rented  the  principal 
floor  of  the  palazzo,  with  its  grand  banquet 
hall,  once  used  for  splendid  entertainments,  to 
Professor  Waite  as  residence  and  studio,  and 
the  contessa  and  her  son  retired  to  the  upper 
story.  There  was  no  communication  between 
this  apartment  and  the  alchemist's  rooms  ;  and 
so,  rather  than  trouble  Professor  Waite  by  pass- 
ing so  often  through  his  studio,  the  count  decid- 
ed to  have  the  stone  work  taken  out  which  had  so 
long  sealed  the  door  on  the  side  of  the  Canal  del 
Espirito,  though  this  was  an  act  in  defiance  of 
the  seal  of  the  Church  set  upon  it  so  long  ago. 
When  the  attention  of  the  girls  had  first  been 
called  to  the  door  by  Tribolo,  it  was  in  broad 


84  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE, 

daylight,  and  they  had  seen  that  it  was  blocked 
with  rough  stones.  But  these  had  been  re- 
moved before  they  passed  that  way  again,  on  the 
night  of  the  festa.  The  man  whose  gondola 
they  had  followed,  and  who  had  paused  before 
the  door,  so  deeply  in  shadow  that  they  had  not 
noticed  that  the  wall  had  been  taken  down, 
was  the  count.  Tribolo  had  taken  him  for  the 
ghost  of  the  old  alchemist,  and  had  imagined 
that  he  had  passed  through  the  solid  stone — 
and,  indeed,  the  appearance  had  been  very  un- 
canny ;  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  the  girls 
discovered  that  the  door  had  been  opened,  for 
Tribolo  could  not  be  persuaded  to  pass  through 
the  canal  again. 

It  so  happened  that  the  old  janitor  had  never 
heard  that  the  count  used  the  suite  of  rooms 
or  had  opened  the  door.  He  knew,  of  course, 
of  the  existence  of  the  apartment  and  the  popu- 
lar story  of  its  being  haunted,  but  in  his  opin- 
ion it  was  a  disgrace  to  be  stoutly  contradicted  ; 
and  so  when  questioned  by  the  girls  and  John 
Nash  he  had  denied  its  existence.  In  the 
mean  time  Angelo  Zanelli  found  the  rooms  a 
very  congenial  retreat.  He  took  his  coffee  in 
the  early  morning  upon  the  balcony,  and  then 


ANGELO  ZANELLl'8  SECRET.  85 

left  the  house  by  the  front  door  in  his  gondola, 
usually  rowing  himself,  for  he  did  not  go  far. 
He  simply  turned  into  the  Canal  del  Espirito 
and  fastened  the  gondola  to  the  hitching-post 
before  the  alchemist's  door — for  he  found  the 
seclusion  of  his  ancestor's  laboratory  very 
favorable  to  quiet  writing,  reading,  and  the  de- 
veloping and  printing  of  his  photographs.;  and 
so  it  became  his  habit  every  day  to  unlock  this 
postern  door  and  disappear  mysteriously  from 
the  world.  He  used  the  old  magician's  cabinet 
for  his  writing-desk,  and  for  a  time  wrote  on 
his  book  without  interesting  himself  in  the 
papers  of  the  alchemist. 

One  day,  however,  a  yellow  parchment  nailed 
to  the  interior  of  the  cabinet  door  caught  his 
eye.  It  was  headed  with  a  black  cross  and  read 
in  Latin  as  follows  : 

"  To  all  to  whom  this  paper  may  come  :  Be 
It  known  that  this  is  a  true  account  of  the  trial 
of  Giovanni  Zanelli,  doctor  of  medicine  and 
alchemist,  before  the  Holy  Office  of  the  In- 
quisition, therein  he  was  convicted  of  in- 
troducing the  plague  into  Venice,  being  bribed 
thereto  by  ib«  Sultan  of  Turkey,  and  was 
charged  with  the  concoction  of  poisons  and 


86  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

the  practice  of  alchemy  and  other  heinous  prac- 
tices." 

Filled  with  horror,  Angelo  read  the  paper  to 
the  end.  It  seemed  that  his  ancestor  had  ac- 
quired much  of  his  knowledge  in  the  Saracen 
University  of  Toledo,  where  he  had  studied 
chemistry — at  that  time  called  alchemy.  Con- 
vinced of  the  knowledge  of  the  Saracen  physi- 
cians, he  pursued  his  travels  to  Eastern  lands, 
and  there  made  studies  of  the  plague,  and  orig- 
inated ideas  of  his  own  as  to  the  disease.  Re- 
turned to  Venice,  he  shut  himself  in  his  labora- 
tory, pursuing  experiments  in  chemistry  which 
were  looked  upon  with  suspicion  by  the  Church 
— for  his  travels  and  studies  among  the  infidels 
were  well  known — and  he  drew  upon  himself 
remark  by  dressing  in  semi-Oriental  fashion 
and  by  wearing  a  full  beard. 

He  was  charged,  too,  with  manufacturing 
poisons  for  Caesar  Borgia,  and  the  charge  was 
partly  proved  by  portions  of  a  correspondence 
which  had  passed  between  them.  But  the  di- 
rect crime  for  which  he  was  executed,  and  for 
which,  if  it  was  really  committed,  he  richly  de- 
served death,  was  for  introducing  and  spread- 
ing the  plague  in  Venice.  The  Holy  Office 


ANGELO  ZANELLP8  SECRET.  87 

attempted  to  make  him  confess  under  torture 
that  he  had  received  vast  sums  from  the  Sul- 
tan for  committing  this  nefarious  crime  ;  but 
this  he  denied  to  the  last.  It  was,  however, 
clearly  proved,  from  the  evidence  of  eye- 
witnesses, that  he  had  obtained  the  blood  of 
plague-stricken  persons  and  had  inoculated 
other  patients  with  the  same  ;  and  this  he  did 
not  deny,  but  brazenly  asserted  was  an  experi- 
ment with  a  view  to  their  cure.  The  Holy 
Office  could  accept  no  such  flimsy  excuse  as 
this  ;  and  even  to  Angelo  this  revelation,  com- 
ing before  the  announcement  of  the  discovery 
of  antitoxine,  seemed  proof  conclusive  of  his 
ancestor' s  guilt.  He  was  overcome  with  shame, 
and  he  did  not  attempt  to  read  a  diary,  which 
he  afterward  discovered  in  a  secret  compart- 
ment of  the  cabinet,  which  had  baffled  the 
search  of  the  inquisitors,  who  had  burned  all 
other  papers,  together  with  the  fine  medical 
library,  and  many  Arabian  manuscripts,  in  the 
auto-da-fe  which  consumed  the  body  of  the 
sorcerer  himself. 

This  was  Angelo' s  inheritance  of  shame  ;  but 
he  had  a  more  personal  grief.  Like  a  dream, 
indistinct  in  certain  details,  but  wonderfully 


88  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

clear  in  others,  he  had  always  remembered  his 
little  playmate,  the  child  who,  without  having 
ever  seen  Venice,  loved  it  as  much  as  he  did, 
and  knew  so  much  more  than  he  about  its  old 
legends  and  traditions.  He  had  never  cared  for 
these  old  stories  till  she  told  them  to  him  ; 
they  had  turned  the  current  of  his  life  and 
made  him  an  ardent  student  of  the  literature 
and  history  of  his  country.  As  a  child  it  had 
not  occurred  to  him  to  write  to  her,  but  only 
to  wait  patiently  until  happy  fate  should  bring 
them  together  again.  When,  as  a  youth,  this 
method  of  communication  did  suggest  itself,  he 
could  not  remember  her  real  name,  only  what 
they  had  decided  it  should  be  some  day — Nel- 
lie Zanelli.  Lately  he  had  come  across  the  sil- 
ver bonbonniere,  the  mate  to  the  one  which  he 
had  given  her.  He  recalled  the  circumstances 
vividly,  and  at  first  it  gave  him  pleasure,  for 
he  felt  that  as  the  name  Zanelli  was  engraved 
on  the  box,  she  knew  his  name,  and  that  this 
slender  clew  might  some  day  bring  about  their 
meeting.  But  this  feeling  was  speedily  over- 
shadowed by  a  great  dread.  He  remembered 
perfectly  where  he  had  found  this  strange 
double  box,  and  as  he  opened  his  part  and 


ANGELO  ZANELLI'S  SECRET.  89 

looked  at  the  amber-like  globules,  a  distrust 
glided,  serpent-like,  into  his  mind.  He  exam- 
ined the  lid  of  the  box  with  a  magnifying- 
glass,  for  there  seemed  to  be  some  inscription 
engraved  within  it.  Little  by  little  it  came  out 
with  startling  distinctness :  "  This  is  the  fa- 
mous Borgia  poison.  One  pellet  dissolved  in 
wine  will  produce  death."  He  was  so  over- 
come with  horror  that  he  was  almost  paralyzed. 
This,  then,  was  the  farewell  present  which  he 
had  given  his  little  playmate— a  poison  in  the 
guise  of  innocent-appearing  bon-bons,  which, 
if  taken  by  herself  or  by  any  one  else,  would 
result  in  certain  death.  Perhaps  the  child  had 
long  ago  died,  a  victim  to  his  boyish  ignorance 
and  carelessness.  He  wrote  at  once  to  his 
great-aunt,  the  sister  of  Captain  Snyder,  ask- 
ing what  had  become  of  the  little  girl  who  at 
the  time  of  his  visit  was  their  nearest  neighbor. 
He  was  partly  relieved  by  her  reply.  The  lit- 
tle girl  was  not  dead.  She  had  become  an  art- 
ist, and  had  lately  visited  her  parents  on  Long 
Island  previously  to  going  abroad.  This  altered 
a  resolve  that  Angelo  had  made  to  visit  Amer- 
ica if  Nellie  was  still  alive,  seek  her  out,  and 
tell  her  of  the  dangerous  character  of  the  pres- 


90  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

ent  which  he  had  unwittingly  given  her.  Nel- 
lie was  somewhere  in  Europe  ;  but  Aunt  Eliza 
had  neglected  to  give  him  her  last  name  or  her 
present  address.  For  this  he  wrote,  and  for  it 
he  now  waited  with  great  impatience.  Neither 
of  these  troubles — the  long-inherited  disgrace, 
which  his  father  had  known  but  had  kept  se- 
cret, hoping  that  the  pain  of  its  knowledge 
might  be  spared  his  descendants,  nor  this  fear 
of  an  agency  for  evil  placed  by  his  own  act 
near  a  sweet  and  innocent  being  whose  mem- 
ory he  cherished — did  he  feel  that  he  could 
share  with  his  mother. 

But  he  was  not  an  adept  at  dissembling  ;  and 
she,  watching  him  as  mothers  do,  knew  that 
her  son  had  a  secret  grief  or  fear  whose  nature 
she  could  not  guess,  but  which  filled  her  with 
more  alarm  than  a  knowledge  of  the  facts 
themselves  would  have  done.  It  was  some- 
thing which  had  made  him  declare  very  seri- 
ously that  he  could  never  many,  and  which 
made  him  more  and  more  a  solitary  and  mel- 
ancholy man.  And  yet  Angel  o  was  not  morose 
by  nature,  and  sometimes  his  gay,  sweet  dis- 
position would  nicker  up  like  a  flame  through 
a  charred  log  and  dance  brightly  for  a  time, 


ANOELO  ZANELLP8  SECRET.  91 

and  he  would  tuck  his  mother's  arm  within  his 
own,  and  placing  her  in  his  gondola,  row  her 
far  out  on  the  lagoons  for  a  day  of  pleasure, 
and  he  would  sing  the  Venetian  songs  merrily 
and  echo  the  cries  of  the  boatmen  and  fisher- 
men in  pure  boyish  fun.  But  always,  as  he 
moored  the  gondola  in  front  of  the  palace  steps, 
fastening  it  to  one  of  the  decorated  hitching- 
posts  that  sprout  like  asparagus  stalks  from  the 
water,  the  gloom  of  the  shadow  fell  again  upon 
his  face.  Close  to  his  heart,  consumed  by  his 
gnawing  anxiety  as  to  the  deadly  work  that 
the  Borgia  poison  bon-bons  might  do,  he  carried 
the  twin  box  ;  and  he  had  taken  an  oath,  fool- 
ish and  wicked,  though  prompted  by  a  sense  of 
justice,  that  if  he  should  hear  of  a  life  lost 
through  his  childish  fault  he  would  take  his 
own  life  in  the  same  way  as  punishment  and 
reparation. 

But  with  all  his  trouble,  Angelo  Zanelli  was 
still  a  young  man,  and  not  unimpressionable. 
He  had  noticed  the  young  American  girls  even 
before  the  luckless  dialogue  which  they  had  en- 
acted for  their  own  entertainment,  and  each 
time  that  he  had  met  them  sketching  in  the  old 
courtyards  the  girl  with  the  Madonna  face  had 


92  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

interested  him  more  and  more.  He  was  angry 
with  himself  that  this  should  be,  that  the 
witchery  of  a  mere  face  should  possess  such 
power  over  him,  when  he  had  such  conclusive 
proof  of  her  frivolous  mind.  He  had  consis- 
tently avoided  meeting  her,  always  leaving  his 
favorite  morning  haunt,  the  balcony  opposite 
the  Salute,  as  soon  as  he  could  hear  the  young 
ladies  just  inside  their  windows  chatting  over 
their  breakfast.  He  even  congratulated  him- 
self on  the  rudeness  with  which  he  had  declined 
Professor  Waite's  offer  to  present  him,  but  for 
all  this  the  sweet  young  face  would  persist  in 
haunting  his  thoughts.  To  interest  himself 
actively  in  some  one  else,  he  had  taken  upon 
himself  to  act  as  guide  to  John  Nash,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  introduce  hjm  to  all  his  favorite  nooks 
in  Venice.  John  was  appreciative,  quick,  and 
artistic  to  his  finger-tips.  It  was  a  pleasure  to 
enlighten  his  ignorance.  He  was  impressed  by 
the  colorful  harmony  of  San  Marco,  but  he  per- 
sisted obstinately  in  enjoying  quite  as  much 
the  delicate  tracery  of  the  Venetian  Gothic  ; 
and  when  Professor  Waite  handed  the  count  a 
set  of  pen-and-ink  drawings  of  the  facades  of 
Gothic  palaces,  and  remarked  that  they  were 


ANGELO  ZANELLl'S  SECRET.  93 

offered  as  illustrations  for  his  book  by  a  young 
artist  who  wished  to  be  nameless,  he  at  once 
concluded  that  they  were  by  John  Nash. 

"  They  are  admirable,"  he  said  as  he  glanced 
them  over,  "  and  I  think  I  can  guess  who  drew 
them." 

"  Then  do  not  disclose  your  suspicions  to  the 
artist,"  the  professor  replied,  "but  carry  on 
all  negotiations  through  me.  It  may  seem 
strange  to  you  that  such  modesty  and  sensi- 
tiveness can  exist  hand  in  hand  with  such  tal- 
ent ;  but  this  is  the  condition  on  which  they 
are  submitted." 

When,  later,  Angelo  Zanelli  looked  the 
drawings  over  more  carefully,  another  point 
struck  him,  which  seemed  to  prove  that  they 
had  been  made  by  John  Nash.  It  was  John's 
familiarity  with  each  of  the  palaces  represent- 
ed. This  was  quite  natural,  for  he  had  accom- 
panied the  girls  on  a  number  of  their  sketching 
excursions,  and  had  talked  over  the  buildings 
with  them  as  they  met  at  the  hotel. 

The  count  had  laid  the  package  of  drawings 
aside,  and  had  not  examined  them  closely  until 
Professor  Waite  recalled  them  to  his  memory  a 
week  later  by  presenting  him  with  another  set 


94  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

He  was  both  surprised  and  delighted,  and  he 
could  not  imagine  why  John  should  wish  to 
make  a  secret  of  their  authorship,  especially  as 
it  seemed  to  the  count  so  very  apparent.  Here 
in  the  second  set  were  the  facades  of  palaces 
which  he  had  recommended  to  John  (and  to 
which  the  faithful  fellow  had  immediately 
guided  Tib).  The  first  set  was  made  up  entire- 
ly of  palaces  on  the  Grand  Canal,  to  which  every 
gondolier  convoys  the  tourist,  but  those  of  the 
second  week  he  was  sure  could  not  have  been 
discovered  by  a  new-comer  without  his  direc- 
tion. It  was  very  foolish  for  John  to  insist  on 
his  incognito,  and  it  was  almost  more  than  the 
count  could  do  to  respect  it. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE   GOTHIC   PALACES. 

HONG  the  Gothic  pal- 
aces  which  Tib  had 
drawn,  there  were 
none  whose  details 
she  had  copied  with 
more  fidelity  and  affec- 
tion than  the  little  Pa- 
lazzo Contarini,  whose 
upper  stories  are  shown 
at  the  head  of  this  chap- 
ter* Beside  this  she  had 
sketched  the  Ca'  d'Oro, 
the  Gmstiniani,  the  Foscari,  with  parts  of 
several  others.  And  as  these  are  the  build- 
ings which  first  fascinate  the  eye  and  win 
the  heart  of  every  visitor  to  Venice,  a  word  of 
description  may  not  be  out  of  place. 

The  Ca'  d'Oro,  or  Casa  Doro,  so  called  either 
from  its  gildings  or  because  it  once  belonged  to 


96  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

the  Doro  family,  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating 
of  the  Moorish-Gothic  palaces,  and  it  shows 
best  the  transition  from  the  Byzantine  to  the 
Gothic  style,  combining  as  it  does  many  fasci- 
nating features  of  both. 

The  fronts  of  the  old  Byzantine  palaces,  as 
illustrated  in  the  Fondaca  dei  Turchi,  consisted 
of  two  long  arcades  of  arches  ;  but  in  the  Gothic 
the  central  portion  only  was  open,  while  these 
arched  spaces  were  contrasted  by  solid  walls  on 
either  side,  framing  the  ornate  openings  and 
giving  an  effect  of  more  solidity  to  the  entire 
building.  The  Ca'  d'Oro  has  only  one  of  these 
solid  wings,  as  the  building  was  never  finished  ; 
but  this  slight  irregularity  added  the  charm  of 
waywardness  and  capricious  picturesqueness  to 
this  radiant,  fairy-like  structure,  and  perhaps 
this  very  inconsistency  has  caused  it  to  be  de- 
nominated "  the  embodiment  of  the  feminine'* 
among  the  more  dignified  and  manly  Renais- 
sance palaces.  The  metaphor  inight  be  carried 
still  further,  and  the  query  raised  whether  the 
graceful,  wayward  bride  were  quite  happy  in 
her  association  with  her  heavier  and  somewhat 
pompous  companion,  a  Renaissance  palace  now 
turned  into  a  hotel.  The  Ca'  d'Oro  has  suffered 


THE  GOTHIC  PALACES.  97 

much  from  neglect  and  restoration.  Its  interior 
staircase,  said  to  have  been  the  most  interesting 
of  its  kind  in  Venice,  was  broken  up  and  sold 
for  waste  marble.  But  through  all  its  vicis- 
situdes (still  like  a  noble-hearted  woman)  it  has 
preserved  its  cheerful  character — elegant,  noble, 
gay.  Tib  was  sure  that  there  never  were  skele- 
tons in  its  closets  or  festering  corpses  buried 
beneath  its  pavements.  Only  pure  and  lovely 
ladies,  like  the  originals  of  Rosalba  Carriera's 
pastels,  leaned  over  those  lace-like  balconies ; 

* 

only  honorable  as  well  as  debonair  noblemen 
walked  in  those  beautiful  corridors.  The  pal- 
ace has  such  a  bright  and  happy  look  that 
nothing'  evil  or  sinister  could  make  its  home 
here. 

And  yet  Tib  found  that  one  of  the  saddest 
tragedies  of  Venice  brought  ruin  to  two  noble 
houses  whose  homes  were  palaces  of  this  same 
lightsome,  Venetian- Gothic  architecture.  These 
two  palaces,  the  Contarini  and  the  Ca'  d'  Oro, 
were  among  the  first  which  she  drew.  Perhaps 
it  was  principally  from  association,  but  Tib 
loved  the  little  jewel-box  Contarini  palace  quite 
as  much  as  the  more  admired  Ca'  d'Oro,  for  it 
was  from  this  exquisite  little  building  that  a 


98  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

daughter  of  that  house  was  rowed  in  the  bucen- 
taur  or  state  gala  barge  to  her  marriage  with 
the  unfortunate  Jacopo  Foscari,  while  a  bridge 
of  boats  was  thrown  across  the  Grand  Canal  for 
the  bridegroom  and  his  retinue  of  three  hun- 
dred horse,  and  tournaments  were  held  for 
three  days  in  the  Piazza  of  San  Marco. 

This  was  the  story  which  had  caught  her 
childish  fancy,  and  she  drew  with  infinite  pa- 
tience and  with  real  love  the  fanciful  whorls 
of  the  balcony,  which  reminded  her  of  fern 
fronds  and  other  convoluted  forms  of  leaf 
unfolding,  rather  than  the  geometrical  frost 
crystals  of  quatrefoils  and  trefoils  repeated  in 
the  Ducal  Palace  and  in  the  stately  house  of 
the  Foscaris.  This  design,  copied  again  and 
again  in  the  palaces  built  shortly  after  the 
Ducal  Palace,  seemed  a  little  mechanical  at  last, 
and  in  its  paucity  of  invention  reminded  her  of 
the  ease  with  which  Lolo  stamped  quatrefoils 
and  trefoils  in  the  sand  with  his  tin  cake-cut- 
ter. But  it  was  an  argument  for  the  inherent 
beauty  of  these  simple  forms  that  she  never 
really  wearied  of  them  even  in  their  multifa- 
rious repetition.  The  Foscari  palace,  too,  the 
same  that  was  built  during  the  glorious  doge- 


THE  GOTHIC  PALACE.  99 

ship  of  the  elder  Foscari,  to  conform  with  the 
growing  state  of  his  house,  was  so  dignified,  so 
in  keeping  with  the  upright  character  and 
splendid  ability  of  the  man  who  ruled  Venice 
during  her  most  brilliant  period,  and  bore  his 
loss  of  office  with  such  nobility  that  it  reflected 
disgrace  only  upon  the  enemy  that  planned  it, 
that  Tib  inclined  her  head  with  involuntary 
reverence  each  time  that  her  gondola  passed  it. 
She  remembered  how  the  old  doge  had  endured 
his  son's  sentence,  counselling  him  to  submit  to 
the  punishment  decreed  by  Venice,  and  how, 
when  deposed  through  the  same  malice  which 
had  occasioned  the  sufferings  and  death  of  his 
son,  he  had  passed  down  the  Giant's  Staircase 
with  the  same  dignity  that  he  had  mounted  it 
to  his  coronation.  But  the  walls  of  his  home 
could  not  shut  out  the  pealing  of  the  great  bell 
announcing  the  accession  of  a  new  doge,  and 
with  that  peal  his  great  heart  broke.  Many  of 
the  gondola  posts  in  front  of  the  palaces  were 
surmounted  by  the  ducal  cap,  proclaiming  that 
the  building  had  been  the  home  of  a  doge. 
Next  door  to  the  Foscari  palace  was  another 
which  shared  this  honor — one  of  the  three  pal- 
aces of  the  Giustiniani.  There  is  a  romantic 


100  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

legend  connected  with  this  family  which  has 
often  been  related.  During  one  of  the  wars  of 
Venice  with  the  Greeks  in  the  twelfth  century, 
every  known  male  member  of  the  house  was 
slain  ;  but  the  state,  not  willing  that  this  heroic 
race  should  perish  from  the  earth,  remembered 
a  young  monk  of  the  family  in  the  Convent  of 
San  Niccolo  on  the  Lido,  and  obtained  a  dis- 
pensation from  the  Pope  to  allow  him  to  quit 
his  convent,  return  to  the  world,  and,  marrying 
Anna  Michieli,  the  daughter  of  the  doge,  found 
anew  the  ancient  house.  Later  in  life,  when 
five  sons  had  been  given  them  ("  among  whose 
descendants,"  says  the  chronicle,  "afterward 
flourished  men  of  the  highest  intellect  and  great 
orators' ')  Niccolo  Giustiniani  and  his  wife  part- 
ed, and  gave  the  remnant  of  their  lives  to  the 
cloister. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  the  doge's  cap 
crowned  the  gondola  post,  and  it  was  about 
this  time  that  different  descendants  of  the  monk 
built  the  three  Gothic  palaces  in  the  noblest 
site  on  the  Grand  Canal,  whence,  on  one  hand, 
you  can  look  down  to  the  Bialto  Bridge,  and 
on  the  other  far  up  toward  the  Church  of  the 
Salute.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  D«m  Howells 


THE  GOTHIC  PALACE.  101 

lived  during  their  last  year  in  Venice  in  one 
of  these  magnificent  buildings.  Speaking  of 
their  housekeeping  in  the  Palazzo  Giustiniani, 
which  Adelaide's  in  the  Palazzo  Zanelli  greatly 
resembled,  he  says : 

"  If  the  furniture  of  the  principal  bedroom 
was  somewhat  scanty,  its  dimensions  were  un- 
limited. The  ceiling  was  fifteen  feet  high,  and 
was  divided  into  rich  and  heavy  panels,  adorned 
each  with  a  mighty  rosette  of  carved  and  gilded 
wood  two  feet  across.  The  parlor  had  not  its 
original  decorations  in  our  time,  but  it  had  once 
had  so  noble  a  carved  ceiling  that  it  was  found 
worth  while  to  take  it  down  and  sell  it  into 
England  ;  and  it  still  has  two  grand  Venetian 
mirrors,  a  vast  and  very  good  painting  of  a 
miracle  of  St.  Anthony,  and  imitation  antique 
tables  and  armchairs.  The  last  were  frolicked 
all  over  with  carven  nymphs  and  cupids  ;  but 
they  were  of  such  frail  construction  that  more 
than  one  of  our  American  visitors  was  dismayed 
at  having  these  proud  articles  of  furniture  go 
to  pieces  upon  his  attempt  to  use  them  like 
mere  armchairs  of  ordinary  life." 

These  four  palaces— the  Ca'  d'Oro,  the  Con- 
tarini,  the  Foscari,  and  the  Giustiniani— Tib 


102  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

had  drawn  most  lovingly  ;  bnt  she  also  sketched 
a  number  of  other  Gothic  palaces— the  Hotel 
Danieli,  formerly  the  home  of  the  Nani  Mo- 
cenigo  family  ;  the  Palazzo  Morosini,  the  Palaz- 
zo Cavalli,  •with  its  carved  lions  looking  a  bit 
out  of  place  in  the  glistening  whiteness  of  its 
restoration  among  its  time-discolored  neighbors. 
After  haVing  become  well  acquainted  with 
the  Grand  Canal,  they  found  it  a  most  fascinat- 
ing occupation  to  make  tours  of  exploration  in 
the  smaller  waterways,  and  Tribolo  would  row 
them  through  strange  labyrinths,  around  sharp 
corners,  and  under  shadowy  bridges  to  see  some 
pile  of  magnificence  in  ruins.  They  discovered 
one  such  on  a  narrow  caDal  crowded  by  squalid 
buildings  swarmed  with  children  and  with  the 
very  poorest  people.  They  called  it  their  pal- 
ace, and  fancied  that  they  owned  it  by  right  of 
discovery,  until  John  Nash  told  them  that  this 
was  Count  Zanelli's  favorite  palace,  and  one 
which  he  had  especially  advised  him  to  make  a 
sketch  of,  drawing  his  attention  to  the  fact 
that  Ruskin  had  also  given  the  seal  of  his  ap- 
proval to  the  Palazzo  Bernardo  by  declaring  it, 
"  after  the  Ducal  Palace,  the  noblest  in  effect 
of  all  in  Venice." 


THE  GOTHIC  PALACE.  103 

The  count  had  indicated  many  walks  which 
could  be  taken,  for  streets  and  squares  are  so 
connected  by  the  network  of  narrow  sidewalks 
which  border  the  canals,  and  by  the  infinitude 
of  bridges  which  cross  them,  that  he  who 
knows  the  city  only  by  gondola  has  lost  many 
of  its  most  picturesque  aspects.  There  was  a 
noble  door  opening  upon  a  little  \uay  which 
she  drew  in  detail,  half  expecting  that  the 
wicket,  made  for  examination  of  the  stranger 
who  struck  its  ponderous  fish-shaped  knocker, 
might  open  and  the  porter  order  her  to  be  gone. 
Instead  of  this,  some  children  in  the  garden 
within  climbed  a  cherry-tree  that  leaned  over 
the  wall  and  showered  cherries  upon  her  as  she 
drew. 

They  were  not  privileged  to  see  the  interiors 
of  many  of  these  private  palaces  ;  but  they 
knew  that  this  was  Venice's  grandest  era,  and 
they  could  form  a  good  idea,  from  the  decora- 
tions of  the  Ducal  Palace,  of  what  the  beauty  of 
these  princely  homes  must  have  been.  How- 
ells  tells  us  of  the  grand  ball-room  of  the  Pisani 
Palace,  "  where  might  have  danced  that  Con- 
tarini  who,  when  his  wife's  necklace  of  pearls 
fell  upon  the  floor  in  the  way  of  her  partner, 


104  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICb. 

the  King  of  Denmark,  advanced  and  ground  it 
into  powder  with  his  foot,  that  the  king  might 
not  be  troubled  to  avoid  treading  on  it. "  He 
tells,  too,  of  the  magnificent  country-seat  of 
the  Pisani  family  at  Stra,  "  now  with  scarcely 
any  addition  to  its  splendor,  an  imperial  resi- 
dence ;  and  the  Pisani  barge,  a  great  gilded 
affair  all  carven  outside  with  the  dumpling 
loves  and  loose  nymphs  of  the  period,  with 
fruits  and  flowers  and  what  not ;  and  within 
luxuriously  cushioned  and  furnished,  and 
stocked  with  good  things  for  pleasure-making 
in  the  gross  old  fashion. " 

Grander  than  any  of  the  private  palaces,  from 
which  many  of  them  were  copied,  the  Ducal 
Palace  compelled  the  most  respectful  admira- 
tion of  our  young  artists.  Ruskin  calls  it  the 
central  historical  building  of  the  world,  since 
it  unites  all  three  of  the  principal  styles  of  Ven- 
ice, is  still  chiefly  and  pre-eminently  Gothic. 
Tib  grew  to  admire  it  as  much  as  she  did  San 
Marco.  The  long  line  of  its  pillars,  springing 
like  the  stalks  of  lilies  from  the  ground  with- 
out bases,  gave  the  impression  of  natural 
growth.  The  great  rosy  wall,  cut  at  intervals 
by  its  simple  windows,  taught  the  dignity  and 


THE  GOTHIC  PALACL  105 

repose  of  broad  spaces  unteased  by  ornament. 
She  studied  the  capitals  of  the  columns  with 
her  Ruskin  in  hand,  and  drew  the  Giant's 
Staircase,  trying  to  imagine  how  it  looked  dur- 
ing- the  coronation  of  a  doge.  She  walked 
along  the  Rlva  dei  Schiavoni  in  the  direction 
of  the  Public  Garden  to  obtain  a  view  of  the 
exquisite  Bridge  of  Sighs  spanning  the  canal 
between  the  palace  and  the  gloomy  prison.  It 
was  no  matter  that  modern  writers  had  proved 
that  no  one  for  whose  misfortunes  one  should 
weep  had  ever  been  confined  in  those  terrible 
dungeons — unless  possibly  her  old  hero,  Jac6po 
Foscari.  It  was  enough  that  he  had  lan- 
guished there  after  torture,  and  the  guide 
showed  them  oubliettes— wells  in  the  floor  of 
the  cells— into  which  victims  might  be  plunged  ; 
while  there  was  truth  in  the  tradition  that  the 
prison  barge  rowed  all  too  frequently  to  that 
dfjrk  canal,  in  which  rod  and  net  were  never 
allowed  to  be  cast,  lest  it  should  reveal  the 
dread  secrets  of  the  Council  of  Ten. 

In  the  Sala  del  Major  Consilia,  arranged  in 
chronological  order  as  a  frieze  above  the  other 
paintings,  are  the  portraits  of  seventy-two  of 
the  one  hundred  and  twenty  doges.  Every  one 


106  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

pauses  before  the  black  space,  in  which  the  fol- 
lowing inscription  takes  the  place  of  the  cus- 
tomary portrait : 

"  This  is  the  place  of  Marino  Faliero,  behead- 
ed for  his  crimes." 

But  the  palace  as  a  whole  is  lightsome  and 
beautiful,  the  noblest  civic  building  of  the 
world.  No  town  hall  of  the  North  can  compare 
with  it  for  dignity  or  for  gorgeousness  of  its  in- 
terior decoration,  for  the  great  masters  of  the 
Venetian  school  can  best  be  studied  in  its 
mural  paintings. 

As  they  stood  before  Tintoretto's  stupendous 
work,  "  The  Paradise,"  and  Professor  Waite 
explained  the  plan  of  its  composition  in  con- 
centric zones,  like  the  interior  of  a  cupola,  the 
figures  of  saints,  angels,  and  glorified  spirits 
rising  toward  the  central  and  highest  point, 
•toward  Christ  and  the  Madonna,  they  were 
struck  by  the  wonderful  daring  in  conception 
and  execution  of  this  master,  who  could  group 
five  hundred  figures  so  intricately  and  yet  so 
harmoniously. 

Ruskin  enumerates  fourteen  paintings  in  the 
Ducal  Palace  as  specially  worthy  of  attention. 
Indeed,  he  says  that  the  multitude  of  works  by 


THE  GOTHIC  PALACE.  107 

various  masters  which  cover  the  walls  of  the 
palace  is  so  great  that  the  traveller  would  better 
refuse  all  attention  except  to  these  fourteen,  of 
which  ten  are  Tintoretto's.  Of  these  he  places  the 
"  Paradise"  first.  The  girls  studied  the  series 
with  careful  reference  to  the  "  Stones  of  Venice," 
for  Ruskin  certainly  is  Tintoretto's  best  lover  ; 
and  the  dashing  genius  could  ask  no  better  in- 
terpreter and  apologist. 

Tib  was  interested  by  the  four  mythological 
paintings  which  occupy  the  angles  of  the  Anti- 
Col  legio  ;  the  faded  "  Bacchus  and  Ariadne," 
which  Ruskin  assures  us  was  once  one  of  the 
noblest  pictures  in  the  world,  and  especially  by 
the  "Minerva  and  Mars,"  which,  strange  to 
say,  he  does  not  mention.  To  Paul  Veronese, 
with  whom  the  great  critic  is  not  in  sympathy, 
he  still  gives  place  in  his  list  of  masterpieces  of 
the  Ducal  Palace  for  three  paintings :  the 
"  Europa,"  in  the  same  room  as  the  foregoing, 
the  Venice  enthroned  on  its  ceiling,  which  he 
admits  is  "  one  of  the  grandest  pieces  of  frank 
color  in  the  Ducal  Palace,"  and  "  Venice"  and 
the  "  Doge  Sebastian  Vernier"  in  the  Sala  del 
Collegio,  to  which  he  gives  high  praise.  This 
beautiful  room,  with  its  roof  painted  entirely 


108  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

by  Paul  Veronese,  is  a  favorite  one  of  Rus- 
kin's,  and  he  advises  the  traveller  who  really 
loves  painting  to  "  pass  the  sunny  summer 
mornings  there  .igain  and  again,  wandering 
now  and  then  into  the  Anti-Collegio  and  the 
Sala  dei  Pregadi,  and  coming  back  to  rest 
under  the  wings  of  the  couched  lion  at  the  feet 
of  the  '  Mocenigo,'  "  for  "  he  will  not  otherwise 
enter  so  deeply  into  the  heart  of  Venice." 

Tib  felt  that  Ruskin  did  great  injustice  to 
Titian  in  mentioning  in  this  list  but  one  of  his 
paintings,  "  The  Doge  Grimani  Kneeling  before 
Faith,"  and  that  in  terms  of  detraction,  as  a' 
striking  example  of  his  "  want  of  feeling  and 
coarseness  of  perception." 

There  were  other  paintings  not  noted  at  all 
by  the  great  critic  which  won  her  heart,  and  for 
a  time  the  Ducal  Palace  drew  Tib  away  from 
her  architectural  drawing.  After  wandering 
through  its  wonderful  rooms,  she  declared  to 
"Winnie,  "  I  can  content  myself  with  drawing 
in  black  and  white  no  longer.  I  must  drop  it 
for  a  time,  for  I  am  hungry  for  color  and  must 
paint.  I  want  to  copy  a  Titian.  I  will  ask 
Professor  Waite's  advice  as  to  which  one,  and 
order  a  canvas  at  once." 


TEE  GOTHIC  PALACh.  109 

They  tapped  at  the  studio  door  as  soon  as 
they  reached  home,  and  Adelaide  greeted  them 
with  delight. 

"  I  have  just  been  to  your  rooms  to  call  upon 
you  with  the  Contessa  Zanelli,"  she  exclaimed. 
"It  is  a  great  attention,  for  she  goes  out  very 
little.  She  is  very  much  pleased  with  you  both, 
but  she  is  especially  in  love  with  you,  Tib  ;  and 
when  she  asked  what  part  of  America  was  your 
home,  and  I  told  her  that  you  were  born  at 
some  insignificant  little  place  down  on  Long 
Island,  she  was  greatly  excited,  and  asked  if  it 
was  Scup  Haven,  which  is  her  own  birthplace. 
I  told  her  I  thought  that  sounded  like  the 
name.  How  funny  it  would  be  if  you  should 
find  that  you  are  from  the  same  place  !" 

"  I  have  known  it  for  some  time,"  Tib  re- 
plied. "  I  remember  when  the  contessa  visited 
her  father  fifteen  years  ago.  I  saw  her  fre- 
quently ;  we  were  neighbors." 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  recall  yourself  to  her 
when  you  met  her  here  ?  You  are  the  most 
modest  and  least  assertive  little  person  I  ever 
saw.  She  will  like  you  all  the  better,  though, 
for  leaving  her  to  make  the  advances.  And 
she  has  made  them,  for  she  invites  us  all  to 


110  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

take  a  gondola  excursion  with  her  to-morrow 
out  upon  the  lagoons.  We  are  to  carry  our 
luncheons  and  spend  the  entire  day  cruising 
among  the  islands." 

Winnie  uttered  a  little  shriek  of  delight,  but 
Tib  flushed  and  replied  uncertainly,  "  I  am 
afraid  I  can't  spend  the  time.  I  want  to  begin 
my  painting,"  and  she  explained  the  longing 
which  had  come  over  her. 

"  Nonsense, "  said  the  professor  good  natured- 
ly  ;  "  J°n  must  have  your  canvas  stretched  be- 
fore you  can  attack  your  Titian,  and  you  can 
take  your  sketch-box  with  you.  I  shall  do  so, 
and  we  shall  probably  find  some  good  out-of- 
door  studies." 

"Is  her  son  going?"  Ifc  was  Winnie,  not 
Tib,  who  asked. 

"Of  course,"  Adelaide  replied.  "We  are 
to  take  our  three  gondolas.  .  The  count  will  be 
my  escort.  Mr.  Waite  will  take  Winnie,  and 
Tib  is  to  go  with  the  contessa.  You  must  not 
refuse,  for  it  would  offend  her  greatly.  She 
has  settled  everything,  provided  for  every  thing, 
and  she  is  not  a  woman  who  enjoys  having  her 
plans  set  aside. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ON    THE     LAGOONS. 

ROFESSOR  WAITE  had  said  that 
the  contessa  did  not  like  to  have  her 
plans  thwarted,  and  she  was  rarely 
called  upon  to  undergo  such  an 
experience,  for  destiny  had  been 
very  kind  to  her. 
^-4...^,,     She  adored  her 
son,  and  he  an- 
swered her  affec- 
tion   with    filial 
devotion ;  it  was 
the  aim  of  each 
to  make  the  other 

happy  ;  an  aim  in  which  the  son  at  least  was 
perfectly  successful.  But  in  this  particular 
plan  of  the  gondola  excursion  the  contessa  had 
reckoned  without  her  host,  or  rather  with- 
out her  principal  guest.  She  had  arranged  it 
as  a  pleasant  surprise  Hor  her  son  ;  and  lo ! 


112  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

when  lie  was  consulted  he  was  not  at  all 
pleased. 

11  You  must  make  your  trip  without  me, 
mother,"  he  had  said  when  she  had  informed 
him  that  she  had  invited  the  Waites  and  their 
young  lady  friends  to  spend  the  day  upon  the 
lagoons.  "  I  have  promised  to  show  the  sights 
of  Venice  to  a  young  American." 

"Bring  him  with  you,"  suggested  the  con- 
tessa. 

"  He  would  not  be  an  acceptable  addition  to 
the  party.  He  is  a  rough  diamond,  not,  I 
should  judge,  used  to  ladies'  society,  though 
he  is  a  very  interesting  fellow  to  me." 

The  contessa  saw  that  her  son  was  not  to  be 
persuaded,  and  wisely  forbore  persuasion.  At 
the  appointed  time  she  called  on  the  Waites, 
presented  her  son's  excuses,  and  the  party  set 
out  in  two  gondolas  instead  of  three,  the  con- 
tessa appropriating  Tib  to  herself.  The  con- 
tessa's  gondola  was  a  luxurious  one,  cushioned 
and  curtained  daintily  and  fitted  up  with  many 
ingenious  little  contrivances  for  comfort,  more 
roomy  than  a  carriage,  with  lockers  for  lunch- 
eon, for  books,  for  sketching  materials,  with  a 
warm  hood  for  inclement  weather,  lanterns  for 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  113 

gala  evenings,  and  a  fluttering  awning  that  fans 
and  shades  on  warm  summer  afternoons. 

The  gondola  has  been  best  described  by  Hop- 
kinson  Smith,  who  has  used  it  for  many  sea- 
sons as  his  out-of-doors  studio.  How  pictu- 
resquely he  writes  ! 

"  In  my  experience  there  is  nothing  like  a 
gondola  to  paint  from,  especially  in  the'  sum- 
mer. Then  all  these  Venetian  cabs  are  gay  in 
their  sunshiny  attire,  and  have  laid  aside  their 
dark,  hooded  cloaks,  their  rainy  day  mackin- 
toshes— their  felsi — and  have  pulled  over  their 
shoulders  a  frail  awning  of  creamy  white,  with 
snowy  draperies  at  sides  and  back,  under  which 
you  paint  in  state  or  lounge  luxuriously,  drink- 
ing in  the  beauty  about  you.  A  cozy  curtain- 
closed  nest,  a  little  boudoir  with  down  cushions 
and  silk  fringes  and  soft  morocco  coverings, 
kept  afloat  by  a  long,  lithe,  swan-like,  moving 
boat,  bearing  itself  proudly  with  head  high  in 
air — alive  or  still,  alert  or  restful,  and  obedient 
to  your  lightest  touch — half  sea-gull  revelling 
in  the  sunlight,  half  dolphin  cutting  the  dark 
water. " 

Tib  settled  herself  luxuriously  by  the  side  of 
the  contessa,  who  chatted  most  entertainingly, 


114  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

describing  the  different  buildings  which  they 
passed.  She  had  vchosen  a  tortuous  route 
through  the  northeastern  quarter  of  Venice, 
their  destination  for  luncheon  a  restaurant  near 
the  house  that  once  was  Titian's  home,  and 
possessing  from ,  its  terrace,  where  they  would 
take  their  noonday  repast,  the  same  beautiful 
view  across  the  lagoon  of  the  Dolemite  Alps. 
The  part  of  Venice  through  which  they  thread- 
ed their  way  before  coming  out  on  the  northern 
shore  is  not  visited  by  the  hurried  tourist, 
though  it  is  dear  to  the  heart  of  the  artist  and 
all  lovers  of  the  picturesque.  The  authors  who 
have  loved  Venice  most  have  each  found  it  out 
and  written  lovingly  of  its  humbler  charms — 
for  it  is  the  quarter  of  the  poor — and  though 
you  pass  many  a  noble  house,  which  has  been 
the  home  of  the  illustrious  of  ages  past,  these 
palaces  have  now  an  air  of  aristocratic  decay 
and  a  proud  poverty  which  disdains  alike  as- 
sistance or  pity.  Each  member  of  the  party 
could  refer  to  some  writer  who  had  sung  the 
praises  of  this  particular  trip.  It  was  Adelaide 
who  pointed  out  that  Hare  was  speaking  of  this 
northeastern  quarter  of  Venice  when  he  wrote  : 
"This  excursion  is  one  which  gives  an  ad- 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  115 

mirable  idea  of  the  quiet  bits  of  beauty  in  the 
side  canals,  of  the  marvellous  variety  of  the 
palaces  rising  steeply  from  the  pale  green 
water,  of  the  brilliant  acacias  leaning  over  the 
old  sculptured  walls,  of  the  banksia  roses  fall- 
ing over  the  parapets  of  the  little  courts  like 
snowdrifts,  and  of  the  tamarisks  feathering 
down  into  the  water. " 

Winnie  had  discovered  that  her  favorite 
author,  Dickens,  loved  this  quarter  of  the  work- 
men, and  wrote  of  it :  "  Floating  down  narrow 
lanes,  where  carpenters,  at  work  with  plane  and 
chisel  in  their  shops,  toss  the  light  shaving 
straight  upon  the  water,  where  it  lies  like  a  weed 
or  ebbs, away  before  us  in  a  tangled  heap  ;  past 
open  doors,  decayed  and  rotten  from  long  steep- 
ing in  the  wet,  through  which  some  scanty 
patch  of  vine  shines  green  and  bright,  making 
unusual  shadows  on  the  pavement  with  its 
trembling  leaves ;  past  quays  and  terraces, 
where  women,  gracefully  veiled,  are  passing 
and  repassing,  and  where  idlers  are  reclining  in 
the  sunshine  on  flagstones  and  on  flights  of 
steps  ;  past  bridges,  where  there  are  idlers,  too, 
loitering  and  looking  over  ;  below,  stone  balco- 
nies erected  at  a  giddy  height ;  past  plots  of 


116  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

garden,  theatres,  shrines,  prodigious  piles  of 
architecture — Gothic- Saracenic — fanciful  with 
all  the  fancies  of  all  times  and  countries  ;  past 
buildings  that  were  high  and  low,  and  black 
and  white,  and  straight  and  crooked,  mean  and 
grand,  crazy  and  strong  ;  twining  among  a  tan- 
gled lot  of  boats  and  barges,  and  shooting  out 
at  last  into  a  Grand  Canal." 

Their  own  course  was  in  the  contrary  direc- 
tion. At  almost  the  first  turning  after  leaving 
the  highway  of  the  Grand  Canal  they  came 
upon  the  beautiful  door  of  the  Palazzo  Sanudo, 
a  noble  Gothic  fourteenth-century  palace  with 
Byzantine  cornices.  This  door  is  the  most  per- 
fect of  its  period  in  Venice,  and  illustrates  the 
transition  from  the  Byzantine  to  the  Gothic 
period.  They  paused  to  admire  its  richly 
carved  panels,  and  the  professor  pointed  out 
the  wicket  or  little  door  in  the  great  one,  for 
the  examination  of  the  stranger  demanding  en- 
trance, and  its  heavy  bronze  knocker  in  the 
form  of  a  dolphin.  There  was  a  tempting 
garden  at  its  side.  Tib  remarked  that  she 
thought  Miss  Thackeray  must  have  intended 
to  describe  this  part  of  their  trip  when  she 
wrote  this  bit  of  word  painting,  which  had  in. 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  117 

pressed  her  so  vividly  that  she  was  able  to 
repeat  it : 

u  Now  it  is  a  palace  to  let,  with  wooden  shut- 
ters swinging  in  shadow  ;  now  we  pass  the 
yawning  vaults  of  great  warehouses  piled  with 
saffron  and  crimson  dyes,  where  barges  are 
moored  and  workmen  strain  at  the  rolling  bar- 
rels. Now  it  is  the  brown  wall  of  some  garden 
terrace  ;  a  garland  has  crept  over  the  brick,  and 
droops  almost  to  the  water  ;  one  little  spray  en- 
circles a  rusty  ring  hanging  there  with  its 
shadow.  Now  we  touch  palace  walls,  and  with 
a  hollow  jar  start  off  once  more.  Now  comes  a 
snatch  of  song  through  an  old  archway  ;  here 
are  boats  and  voices  ;  the  gondolier's  earrings 
twinkle  in  the  sun.  A  little  brown-faced  boy 
is  lying  with  his  brown  legs  in  the  sun  on  the 
very  edge  of  a  barge,  dreaming  over  into  the 
green  water  ;  he  lazily  raises  his  head  to  look, 
and  falls  back  again  ;  now  a  black  boat  passes 
like  a  ghost ;  now  it  is  out  of  all  this  swing  of 
shadow  and  confusion  that  we  cross  a  broad, 
sweet  breadth  of  sunlight  and  come  into  the 
Grand  Canal." 

They  moored  their  gondolas  at  the  restaurant 
and  followed  the  professor  through  a  tangle  of 


118  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

calles,  or  narrow  lanes,  to  the  house  once  occu- 
pied by  Titian.  They  had  better  fortune  than 
most  tourists,  for  they  were  admitted,  and  saw 
a  part  of  the  garden  which  was  so  extensive 
and  beautiful  in  Titian's  day,  running  down  to 
the  shore  and  having  its  own  little  wharf  for 
the  embarkation  of  its  guests.  Titian  owned  a 
large  house,  but  only  occupied  the  main  upper 
stories,  which  had  a  loggia  communicating  with 
the  garden  by  a  stone  staircase.  The  lower 
story  had  no  doors  or  windows  upon  this  gar- 
den, but  fronted  upon  a  side  calle,  and  was  oc- 
cupied, by  shops.  The  house  has  been  much 
altered  since  Titian's  time,  his  noble  studio  cut 
up  into  small  rooms,  and  its  frescoes — pre- 
sumably by  the  hand  of  the  master — at  first 
whitewashed,  then  cleaned,  taken  down,  and 
sold  into  England.  Tib  came  later  to  have  a 
greater  interest  in  the  garden,  as  she  became 
better  acquainted  with  the  period  during  which 
Titian  lived,  and  learned  the  associations  con- 
nected with  the  spot.  At  this,  her  first  visit,  she 
knew  only  what  Howells  had  written,  and  she 
agreed  with  him  that  it  had  "  an  incomparably 
lovely  and  delightful  situation."  It  looked  out 
over  the  lagoon,  across  the  quiet  isle  of  sepul- 


ON  TEE  LAGOONS.  119 

chres,  San  Michele,  across  the  smoking  chimneys 
of  the  Murano  Glass  Works,  and  the  bell  towers 
of  her  churches,  to  the  long  line  of  the  seashore 
on  the  right  and  to  the  mainland  on  the  left, 
and  beyond  the  nearer  lagoon  islands,  and 
the  faintly  pencilled  outlines  of  Torcello  and 
Burano  in  front,  to  the  sublime  distance  of  the 
Alps  shining  in  silver  and  purple,  and  resting 
their  snowy  heads  against  the  clouds.  It  had 
a  pleasant  garden  of  flowers  and  trees,  into 
which  the  painter  descended  by  an  open  stair- 
way, and  in  which  he  is  said  to  have  studied 
the  famous  tree  in  the  "  Death  of  Peter  Mar- 
tyr." Here  he  entertained  the  great  and  noble 
of  his  day,  and  here  he  feasted  and  made  merry 
with  the  gentle  sculptor  Sansovino,  and  with 
their  common  friend,  the  rascal  poet  Aretino. 

After  their  visit  to  Titian's  house  they 
lunched  al  fresco  (out  of  doors)  at  the  little 
restaurant  on  the  Fondamente  Nuove  on  deli- 
cious fish,  a  salad,  black  coffee,  cheese,  and 
fruit,  and  then  their  gondolas  left  the  narrow 
canals  and  shot  out  upon  the  open  lagoon.  As 
they  passed  the  cemetery  island  of  San  Michele 
they  saw  a  boat  funeral  approaching.  Sir 
lently  it  stole  on  its  way,  but  it  was  difficult  to 


120  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

imagine  that  the  gondolas  were  other  than 
pleasure  boats  like  their  own,  for  the  island 
villages,  white  and  vermilion,  glittered  merrily 
in  the  silvery  blue  setting,  and  there  was  noth- 
ing funereal  in  the  scene  except  the  crape-like 
scarf  of  smoke  floating  from  the  chimneys  of 
the  glass  furnaces  over  the  island  of  Murano. 
This  as  they  approached  was  seen  to  be  no 
badge  of  mourning,  but  a  symbol  of  activity  and 
prosperity.  They  paused  to  visit  the  churches, 
the  Duomo,  with  its  mosaic  Madonna,  and  the 
Church  of  the  Angeli  to  see  the  portrait  of 
Doge  Barberigo  kneeling  before  the  Virgin — 
one  of  the  noblest  of  Giovanni  Bellini's  can- 
vases— and  then  they  went  over  the  Salviatti 
Glass  Manufactory. 

The  contessa  called  their  attention  to  the 
wonderful  reproductions  of  the  ancient  mo- 
saics. 

An  intelligent  custodian  showed  them  a  large 
collection  of  exquisite  imitations  of  the  old 
Arenetian  glass  in  infinite  variety  of  twisted 
floral  forms  tinted  with  the  marvellous  colors 
of  every  gem — opal,  ruby,  aquamarine,  emer- 
ald, milky  mottled  agate,  and  gold -flecked  crys- 
tal. He  showed  them  also  a  cabinet  of  antique 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  121 

specimens,  very  rare  and  valuable,  from  which 
these  were  copied. 

"  We  have  one  cup  which  bears  your  name," 
he  said  to  the  contessa.  "It  is  the  Zanelli 
beaker,  so  called  from  a  chemist  of  note,  per- 
haps of  your  family,  who,  it  is  said,  discovered 
how  to  mingle  reactions  in  the  glass,  so  that  it 
serves  as  a  detecter  of  certain  poisons.  Here  is 
the  cap."  • 

He  set  before  them  a  delicate  glass  of  ordi- 
nary aspect,  except  that  a  green  serpent  was 
coiled  about  it,  forming  the  handle  with  one  of 
its  convolutions,  while  its  head  was  buried  deep 
in  the  interior  of  the  cup,  as  though  thirstily 
endeavoring  to  drink  its  contents.  Around  the 
brim  of  the  cup  was  an  inscription  in  gold  in 
Latin  which  Winnie  translated  :  "I  die  to  pre- 
serve life." 

The  contessa  started.  "  That,"  said  she,  "  is 
a  motto  painted  over  the  laboratory  door  of  an 
ancestor  of  my  husband's  who  was  a  physi- 
cian." 

"  Then  I  am  sure,"  said  Tib,  "  that  he  must 
have  been  the  inventor  of  this  detective  glass. 
Of  what  kind  of  poison  does  it  announce  the 
presence  ?' ' 


122  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"No  one  knows,"  replied  the  custodian. 
"  The  legend  says  only  that  if  wine  containing 
the  celebrated  poison  of  the  Borgias  is  ponred 
into  this  cup,  the  instant  that  it  mounts  to  the 
little  red  tongue  of  the  serpent  the  glass  will  be 
shivered  to  atoms.  No  one  knows  of  what  the 
Borgia  poison  consisted.  Possibly,  too,  the 
legend  of  the  power  possessed  by  the  goblet  is 
a  mere  fabrication." 

"  You  could  easily  ascertain  by  experiment- 
ing with  different  kinds  of  poisons,"  Tib  re- 
plied, much  excited. 

"  Yes, "  admitted  the  custodian;  "but  it  is 
hardly  worth  while  to  prove  the  truth  of  the 
tradition  at  the  expense  of  shattering  this  beau- 
tiful specimen  of  antique  glass.  We  are  more 
interested  in  it  as  a  work  of  art  than  in  proving 
or  disproving  idle  legends." 

"  If  this  chemist  Zanelli  was  really  your  an- 
cestor," Tib  said  to  the  contessa  as  they  left 
the  manufactory,  "  it  is  probable  that  you  pos- 
sess among  your  heirlooms  some  of  this  detec- 
tive glass." 

"  It  is  possible,"  the  contessa  replied.  "  We 
will  ask  Angelo  ;  he  seems  greatly  interested 
in  everything  connected  with  the  history  of  his 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  123 

father's  family,  though  my  husband  manifest- 
ed a  strange  ignorance  and  indifference  to 
genealogical  matters,  and  always  maintained 
that  what  one's  ancestors  had  done  conveyed 
neither  distinction  nor  shame  upon  his  descend- 
ants, but  that  every  man  was  noble  or  ignoble 
according  to  his  own  conduct." 

The  party  embarked  again  and  followed  a 
channel  marked  in  the  shallow  lagoon  by  a  pro- 
cession of  posts  to  the  island  of  Burano,  for  a 

••> 

glimpse  at  the  lace-workers,  who,  under  the 
patronage  of  the  Countess  Marcello,  have  re- 
vived the  manufacture  of  the  exquisite  point  de 
Venise. 

Winnie  bought  a  beautiful  collar,  copied 
from  an  antique  pattern,  worn  possibly  by 
Catharine  de  Cornaro,  or  designed — as  she  liked 
to  think  was  quite  possible — by  Eosalba  Car- 
riera,  who,  before  she  became  a  painter,  occu- 
pied herself  in  this  way.  It  was  Professor 
Waite's  turn  to  hasten  them  here  by  reminding 
them  that  they  would  have  a  very  late  dinner 
if  they  did  not  immediately  proceed  to  their 
picnic  ground,  Torcello. 

In  deference  to  the  claims  of  hunger,  they 
postponed  further  sightseeing,  and  ran  their 


124  WITCH   WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

gondolas  up  a  lonely  canal,  or  rather  creek,  for 
in  its  neglect  it  was  difficult  to  decide  whether 
it  had  ever  been  an  artificial  waterway,  and 
gliding  between  grassy  banks,  they  moored  in 
a  little  inlet  back  of  the  ruins  of  the  first 
church.  At  a  little  distance  was  the  Cathedral, 
with  its  group  of  buildings,  and  close  to  them 
the  marble  seat  in  the  open  field  called  Attila's 
Throne.  Here  in  the  solitude  of  the  deserted 
city,  on  grass-grown  mounds,  ruins  of  that  first 
city  of  which  the  count  had  told  them,  they 
spread  their  little  feast,  taken  from  the  well- 
filled  paniers  which  Tribolo  brought  to  them 
from  the  gondolas.  The  violets  leaned  their 
blue  heads  over  the  tablecloth,  and  there  was 
not  a  sound  or  glimpse  of  any  human  being  to 
interrupt  their  privacy. 

Just  as  Winnie  had  given  an  artistic  touch  to 
the  grapes,  piled  on  their  own  vine  leaves,  and 
stood  off  regarding  the  effect,  wishing  that  there 
were  other  artistic  eyes  to  appreciate  it,  and 
Adelaide,  as  she  lifted  the  last  roast  chicken 
from  the  hamper,  was  lamenting  that  there  were 
not  more  in  the  party  to  enjoy  the  feast,  they 
heard  a  merry  halloo  behind  them,  and  turn- 
ing, beheld  another  gondola  gliding  up  the 


ON  TEE  LAGOONS.  125 

inlet.  It  was  the  count  and  John  Nash  ;  for, 
in  order  to  make  his  excuse  true,  Angelo  had 
sought  John  out  and  taken  him  away  for  a 
sketching  trip  on  the  lagoon.  Not  knowing 
the  destination  of  his  mother's  excursion,  he 
had  by  sheer  trickery  chance  stumbled  into 
the  very  party  which  he  had  determined  to 
avoid. 

There  was  no  remedy  for  it  now,  and  he  came 
forward  with  his  easy  grace,  backing  up  John's 
exuberant  delight  with  polite  courtesy. 

"  Just  in  time  for  luncheon,"  was  "Adelaide's 
greeting.  "  You  could  not  have  timed  it  bet- 
ter if  it  had  been  a  rendezvous." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  it  was  not  planned 
on  my  part  ?".  Angelo  replied,  and  his  mother 
pleased — for  she  believed  that  he  had  repented 
and  followed  them — made  haste  to  introduce 
him  to  Tib. 

"This  is  Miss  Smith,"  she  said;  "and  we 
have  just  discovered  that  our  parents  were 
neighbors  in  my  old  Long  Island  home.  I  think 
you  met  when  you  were  children,  though  prob- 
ably neither  of  you  remember  it  now." 

Neither  remembered  !  The  good  lady  little 
imagined  that  the  childish  friendship  was  the 


126  -\YiTCH  WINNIE  IN   VENICE. 

most  vividly  real  thing  for  both  in  all  the  melt- 
ing perspective  of  their  early  lives. 

Angelo  looked  at  Tib  keenly.  No,  he  would 
never  have  recognized  his  little  playmate  ;  but 
he  was  struck  again  by  the  placid  beauty  of  her 
face,  a  beauty  of  expression  more  than  of  fea- 
ture, though  these  were  regular — a  face  telling 
of  an  earnest,  thoughtful  mind,  of  a  pure  life 
and  high  ideals,  a  face  to  respect,  to  trust,  and 
for  the  few  for  whom  she  dropped  that  quiet 
barrier  of  reserve,  to  love.  Angelo  Zanelli  felt 
all  this  as  he  looked,  and  at  the  same  time  there 
came  upon  him  a  great  surging  wave  of  recol- 
lection of  their  ideal  child  friendship,  and  he 
exclaimed  impulsively,  "  Is  it  possible  that  you 
are  Nellie  Zanelli  ?" 

Winnie  laughed  mischievously,  and  Profes- 
sor Waite,  who  was  something  of  a  tease,  re- 
plied jocosely  that  it  was  impossible  to  predict 
what  a  young  lady's  name  might  or  might  not 
become,  but  that  at  present  their  young  friend 
rejoiced  in  a  name  borne  by  more  distinguished 
people  than  any  other  the  world  over — namely, 
the  noble  cognomen  of  Smith. 

The  count  showed  his  vexation  and  embar 
rassment ;  but  Tib  explained  with  perfect  self- 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  127 

possession  :  "  When  we  were  playiellows  some 
fifteen  years  ago,  Count  Zanelli  took  a  violent 
dislike  to  the  sound  of  the  word  Smith,  and 
amused  himself  by  adopting  me  as  his  sister,  in 
order  that  I  might  bear  a  more  musical  name." 

"  I  heartily  confirm  the  act  of  adoption,"  the 
contessa.  remarked  kindly.  "  Your  mother 
was  my  dear  friend.  You  must  urge  your 
parents  to  come  out  to  Venice  before  you  return 
to  America." 

Having  explained  the  situation,  Tib  speedily 
drew  the  conversation  away  from  reminiscence, 
and  chatted  rather  volubly  of  the  places  they 
had  seen  that  morning,  of  Venice  and  its  his- 
tory, and  of  the  opening  chapter  of  his  own  book 
which  he  had  read  at  Professor  Waite's  studio. 

Count  Zanelli  was  not  wholly  pleased.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  she  must  either  have  for- 
gotten all  their  intense  childish  affection,  all 
their  sympathetic  intercourse,  which  had  given 
to  the  old  days  their  abiding  influence  over  him, 
or  else  that  they  awoke  no  such  feeling  in  her 
memory  as  in  his  own.  He  did  not  like  to  have 
the  topic  which  was  uppermost  in  his  mind 
thus  authoritatively  dismissed,  nor  did  he  care 
to  talk  about  his  own  work..  He  occupied 


128  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

himself  with  his  sandwiches  and  with  serv- 
ing the  Chianti  from  the  slender-necked, 
silken-tasselled  flasks,  and  allowed  others  to 
carry  on  the  conversation,  assuming  the  posi* 
tion  of  a  silent  critic.  He  recalled  his  first  im- 
pressions of  Tib,  and  raged  inwardly  that  a  girl 
with  so  hopelessly  frivolous  a  mind  should 
have  a  face  with  such  a  subtle  charm,  and  that, 
having  it,  she  should  be  so  coldly  irresponsive. 
But  he  was  not  allowed  to  sulk  in  silence  ;  the 
girls  really  wished  to  know  more  of  the  history 
of  Torcello,  and  he  could  not  refuse  to  give 
them  the  information  for  which  they  asked. 

"  You  referred  in  your  lecture  to  the  Patri- 
arch Orso, ' '  said  Winnie.  ' '  I  believe  you  said 
that  he  was  at  one  time  Bishop  of  Torcello  and 
built  this  cathedral.  I  wish  you  would  tell  us 
about  him." 

"  The  history  of  the  entire  family  is  interest- 
ing," Count  Zanelli  replied,  "and  interwoven 
with  that  of  Venice  in  its  first  glorious  period. 
There  were  three  doges  in  succession.  The 
first  abdicated  to  enter  the  Church  ;  the  sec- 
ond, his  son,  Pietro  Orseolo,  began  to  reign  in 
991,  and  was  that  leader  who  cleared  the  sea  of 
pirates,  took  their  robber-stronghold  Lagosta, 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  129 

and  brought  Istria,  Dalmatia,  and  all  the  neigh- 
boring islands  under  the  power  of  Venice.  It 
was  to  celebrate  this  conquest  that  the  cere- 
mony of  Venice  wedding  the  sea  was  insti- 
tuted. On  his  death  his  son  Otto  succeeded 
him,  and  his  younger  son,  Orso,  who  had  been 
Bishop  of  Torcello,  was  made  Patriarch.  The 
two  brothers  were  noble,  young,  and  devoted 
to  each  other.  For  fifteen  years  each  occupied 
his  position  of  honor  with  faithfulness — Otto  a 
worthy  successor  of  his  illustrious  father ; 
Orso  busying  himself  with  the  building  of  this 
cathedral,  beautifying  it  with  the  old  pillars 
that  had  been  brought  from  Altinum,  and  with 
the  others  which  we  have  seen  to-day.  But  the 
Orseolo  succession  to  the  dogeship  had  come  to 
be  almost  a  hereditary  dynasty,  and  the  occu- 
pation of  the  highest  offices,  both  secular  and 
clerical,  by  two  brothers  could  not  fail  to  excite 
the  envy  of  the  other  nobles.  Plots  and  out- 
bursts followed,  culminating  in  the  banishment 
of  the  doge  and  the  elevation  of  a  rival  to  his 
seat.  But  the  new  doge  could  not  keep  what 
he  had  seized,  and  he  soon  proved  himself  so 
incompetent  that  he  was  degraded  from  office, 
and  the  populace  clamored  for  the  restoration 


130  -WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

of  Doge  Orseolo.  But  he  had  so  successfuDy 
hidden  his  misfortunes  in  his  exile  that  no  one 
knew  where  he  could  be  found,  and  so  the 
Patriarch  Orso  was  called  from  the  cloister  to 
the  Ducal  Palace  to  reign  provisionally,  while 
a  younger  brother  was  sent  with  a  commission 
to  travel  through  the  East  and  find  the  ban- 
ished Otto. 

"I  see  that  Mrs.  Waite  has  brought  '  The 
Makers  of  Venice  '  with  her  j  and  I  will  resign 
my  office  of  historian  and  allow  Mrs.  Oliphant 
to  finish  the  story  from  this  point." 

The  audience  protested,  but  the  count  was 
firm.  He  had  seen  the  book  under  the  cushion 
of  the  gondola,  and  turning  to  the  page,  he 
handed  it  to  Adelaide,  and  she  read  aloud  : 

"  '  The  voyage  of  the  embassy  occupied  more 
than  a  year.  During  these  long  months  Orso 
reigned  in  peace.  Not  a  word  of  censure  is 
recorded  of  his  peaceful  sway.  In  the  splendor 
of  those  halls  which  his  fathers  had  built  he 
•watched  over  Venice,  on  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  for  the  ships  sailing  back  across  the 
lagoons,  bringing  the  banished  Otto  home. 
How  many  a  morning  must  he  have  looked  out, 
before  he  said  his  Mass,  upon  the  rising  dawn 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  131 

and  watched  the  blueness  of  the  skies  and  seas 
grow  clear  in  the  East,  where  lay  his  bishopric, 
his  flock,  his  cathedral,  and  all  the  duties  that 
were  his,  and  with  anxious  eyes  swept  the 
winding  of  the  level  waters,  still  and  gray,  the 
metallic  glimmer  of  the  aqua  morte,  .and  the 
navigable  channels  that  gleamed  between ! 
When  a  sail  came  in  sight  between  those  lines, 
stealing  up  from  Malamocco,  what  expectations 
must  have  moved  his  heart ! 

» 

"'But  when  the  ships  came  back,  their 
drooping  banners  and  mourning  array  must 
have  told  the  news  long  before  they  cast  an- 
chor in  the  lagoon.  Otto  was  dead  in  exile. 
There  is  nothing  said  to  intimate  that  they  had 
brought  back  even  his  body  to  lay  it  with  his 
fathers  in  San  Zaccaria.  The  banished  prince 
had  found  an  exile's  grave. 

"  '  After  this  sad  end  to  all  his  hopes,  the  noble 
Orso  showed  how  magnanimous  and  disinter- 
ested had  been  his  inspiration.  Not  for  him- 
self, but  for  Otto  he  had  held  that  trust.  He 
laid  down  at  once  those  honors  which  were  not 
his,  and  returned  to  his  own  charge  and  duties. 

"  '  Many  years  after  this  Orso  held  his  patri- 
archate in  peace  and  honor,  and  the  name  of  the 


132  WITCH  WINNIE  IN   VENICE. 

younger  brother,  Vitale,  appears  as  his  succes- 
sion, while  their  sister,  Felicia,  was  abbess  of  a 
convent  at  Torcello.  But  a  connection  of  the 
family,  Domenico,  made  an  attempt  to  seize  the 
supreme  power,  and  the  people,  startled  by  the 
fear  of  dynastic  succession,  pronounced  the  race 
incapable  henceforward  of  holding  any  office 
under  the  republic.  The  prohibition  would 
seem  to  have  been  of  little  practical  importance, 
since  of  the  children  of  Pietro  Orseolo  the  Great 
there  remained  none  except  priests  and  nuns. 
This  story  has  the  completeness  of  an  epic. 
They  lived  and  ruled  and  made  Venice  great. 
And  then  it  was  evident  that  they  had  com- 
pleted their  mission,  and  the  race  came  to  an 
end.  Greatness  has  faded  from  the  ancient 
commune  as  it  faded  from  the  family  of  their 
bishop,  and  Torcello,  like  the  Orseoli,  may  seem 
to  look  wistfully  yet  with  no  grudge  across 
the  level  waste  of  the  sea  to  Venice,  which 
has  carried  her  life  away.  But  the  story  of 
this  tender  brother,  the  banished  doge's  de- 
fender, champion,  substitute,  and  mourner,  he 
who  reigned  for  Otto,  and  for  himself  neither 
sought  nor  accepted  anything,  is  worthy  of  the 
scene. ' 


ON  TEE  LAGOONS.  133 

"But  that  does  not  seem  mournful  to  me," 
said  Adelaide,  as  she  closed  the  book,  "  and 
Torcello  never  does.  I  think  it  is  a  more  beau- 
tiful thing  to  close  a  story  nobly  than  to  fritter 
out  at  the  end,  to  degenerate,  as  so  many  worthy 
families  have  done,  leaving  noble  names  to  be 
ignobly  borne  ;  and  I  would  rather  see  these 
noble  buildings  empty  and  desolate  than  put  to 
vile  uses. " 

.  "  I  agree  with  you,  my  dear,"  said  the  con- 
tessa.  "  To  me  Torcello  is  not  sad.  Looking  at 
our  beautiful  Venice,  we  cannot  regret  that  she 
burst  this  humble  chrysalis.  Lindsay  has 
something  of  the  same  feeling  when  he  says 
that  his  emotions  here  were  something  akin  to 
'  gazing  at  the  portrait  of  a  hero  in  his  child- 
hood.' " 

4 '  And  now  to  close  our  lecture  with  an  object 
lesson,"  said  Professor  Waite,  "you  must  all 
see  the  view  from  the  top  of  the  Campanile." 

The  girls,  acting  upon  his  suggestion,  climbed 
to  the  top  of  the  tower.  Count  Zanelli  and 
John  Nash  followed,  and  joined  them  on  the 
summit,  where  the  count  pointed  out  and  named 
the  different  islands.  The  sunset  was  flushing 
the  Alpine  range,  and  the  Doge's  Palace,  San 


134  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Marco,  and  the  great  Campanile  of  the  Piazza 
were  silhouetted  against  a  sky  of  beaten  gold. 
Winnie  was  ecstatic  in  her  enthusiasm,  and 
Tib's  face  showed  that  she  was  drinking  in  all 
this  beauty  with  keen  delight. 

"How  thankful  I  am,"  Count  Zanelli 
thought,  "  that  she  does  not  choose  this  occa- 
sion to  gush.  If  she  had  only  had  the  wit  to 
have  kept  quiet  that  first  afternoon,  what  a 
different  impression  I  might  have  had  of  her  !" 
He  handed  Tib  his  field-glass  and  watched  her 
as  she  swept  the  horizon  with  it,  deciding  that 
he  was  wrong  in  thinking  that  if  he  were  an 
artist  he  would  paint  her  looking  straight  out 
from  the  canvas  with  her  soulful  eyes  fixed  on 
the  spectator.  No  artist  could  do  justice  to 
those  eyes  ;  it  would  be  wiser  to  paint  her  in 
profile  as  he  saw  her  now,  looking  away  into 
the  distance  and  quite  unconscious  that  she 
herself  was  a  beautiful  picture. 

They  descended  the  stairs  together,  and  found 
that  Adelaide  had  packed  the  picnic  baskets 
and  that  the  contessa  was  quite  ready  to  return 
to  Venice.  The  sun  had  set,  and  she  did  not 
like  to  be  so  far  out  on  the  lagoons  after  dark. 

"Do    not   be    alarmed,  mother,"  said    the 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  135 

count.  "  I  sent  back  my  gondola  on  our  ar- 
rival, and  shall  return  with  you.  I  knew  you 
would  feel  safer  to  have  me  with  you,  and  I 
was  sure  the  Waites  could  find  room  in  their 
large  gondola  for  Mr.  Nash." 

And  so  it  happened  that  they  drifted  back  to 
Venice  together  in  the  lovely  twilight.  The 
heavy  felsa  curtains  were  put  back,  and  Tib  sat 
half  reclining  among  the  cushions  by  the  side 
of  the  contessa,  while  Angelo  Zanelli  sat  op- 
posite. 

The  party  in  the  accompanying  gondola  sang 
college  songs  to  Winnie's  guitar,  and  Tib  and 
Angelo  Zanelli  joined  in  the  refrain.  The 
contessa  chatted  at  intervals,  but  the  somno- 
lent rocking  of  the  boat  soon  had  its  effect,  and 
she  slept  peacefully.  Her  son  tucked  the  soft 
wraps  about  her  tenderly  and  looked  at  her 
serene  face  with  loving  admiration.  "  Is  she 
not  beautiful  ?"  he  asked  impulsively. 

"  Yes,  indeed,' '  Tib  replied  with  earnestness ; 
"  you  are  rich  in  having  such  a  mother." 

He  looked  up  gratefully.  "  I  am  rich,"  he 
replied  ;  "  1  have  her  and  Venice.  And  what 
do  you  think  of  Venice?  I  remember  in  the 
old  days  you  were  wonderfully  well  informed 


136       WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

for  a  little  girl  about  our  city.  I  trust  it  does 
not  disappoint  you.  It  is  not  very  gay  so- 
cially." 

A  smile  of  fine  scorn  played  around  Tib's 
lips.  "  I  cannot  imagine  that  the  most  world- 
ly society  woman  would  care  for  social  life 
here.  Venice  itself  must  fill  every  longing." 

Angelo  Zanelli  was  surprised ;  he  had  net 
expected  such  an  answer  ;  but  he  was  not  con- 
vinced of  her  sincerity.  "  She  will  betray  her- 
self soon,"  he  said  to  himself;  "  she  has 
learned  that  pretty  speech  as  a  parrot  would, 
by  rote."  But  though  he  tried  her  with  sev- 
eral crucial  questions,  and  she  was  quite  unsus- 
picious of  his  purpose,  she  stood  her  examina- 
tion very  well.  "  There  is  one  infallible  test," 
he  said  to  himself.  "  I  will  take  her  to  the 
gallery  of  the  Academy  and  find  out  what  pic- 
tures she  likes ;  then  I  shall  really  know 
whether  there  is  any  hope  for  her. " 

The  engagement  was  accordingly  made  for 
the  following  day — for  Tib  was  only  too  grate- 
ful for  an  opportunity  to  view  the  Venetian 
masters  under  the  guidance  of  a  cultured  Vene- 
tian. 

Then  suddenly,  as  he  looked  at  her  sweet 


ON  THE  LAGOONS.  137 

face,  he  forgot  his  purpose  of  coldly  analyzing 
her  intellectual  powers,  and  said  impulsively : 
"  I  suppose  all  our  childish  play  under  that 
dilapidated  wharf,  when  we  used  to  dig  little 
canals  in  the  sand  and  imprison  crabs  in  lobster- 
pot  dungeons,  seems  very  absurd  to  you  now ; 
but  to  me  that  little  girl  in  the  ruffled  pink  sun- 
bonnet  is  a  very  vivid  and  charming  memory. 
I  have  forgotten  nearly  everything  I  learned  at 
the  University  of  Padua,  but  I  shall  never  for- 
get the  poems  she  taught  me  or  our  sweet  child- 
ish friendship." 

"  Nor  I,  Lolo."  Tib  bit  her  lips,  and  wished 
the  words  back,  but  it  was  too  late,  they  could 
not  be  recalled.  It  was  as  though  a  flashlight 
had  revealed  for  an  instant  the  inmost  recesses 
of  her  soul,  and  Angelo  Zanelli  knew  that  all 
that  dream -life  of  childhood  held  the  same  im- 
portance for  her  that  it  did  for  him,  that  the 
memory  of  that  intimate  comradeship,  so  long 
interrupted,  had  been  cherished  by  her  as  he 
had  cherished  it,  and  might  be  taken  up  again, 
if  they  should  find  that  they  had  not  grown 
apart ;  that  their  tastes  and  sympathies,  their 
intellectual  life  and  moral  training  had  not 
made  a  chasm  between  them  so  wide  that  no 


138  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

affection  could  bridge.  They  were  both  thank- 
ful that  the  gondola  had  now  entered  the  light 
and  movement  of  the  Grand  Canal,  that  the 
contessa  had  awakened,  and  all  was  activity, 
and  a  joyous  tumult  of  music  and  cries  and 
laughter  precluded  all  conversation. 

The  keel  of  the  gondola  grazed  gently  against 
the  marble  stair,  and  the  count  sprang  to  the 
doorway  and  assisted  his  mother  and  Tib  to 
alight. 

"Good-night,  Nellie  Zanelli,"  the  contessa 
called  merrily  ;  but  Tib  froze  instantly  into 
dignity,  and  the  good  lady  felt  that  her  pleas- 
antry was  ill  timed.  She  had  not  heard  the 
little  phrase,  "  Nor  I,  Lolo,"  or  she  would  have 
been  less  distressed  at  the  apparent  indiffer- 
ence of  these  young  people. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS. 

"  There  Titian,  Tintoret,  and  Giambellin, 
And  that  strong  master  of  a  myriad  hues, 
The  Veronese,  like  flowers  with  odors  keen, 
Shall  smite  your  brain  with  splendors  ;  they  confuse 
The  soul  that,  wandering  in  their  world,  must  lose 
Count  of  their  littleness,  and  cry  that  then 
The  gods  we  dream  of  walked  the  earth  like  men." 

J.  A.  SYMONDS. 

NGELO  ZANELLI'S  mind 
was  in  a  tumult  of  doubt 
and  perplexity.     He 
felt  strongly  attract- 
ed by  this  enigmat- 
ical girl,  but  at  the  same 
time  he  reasoned  with  him- 
self sternly  on  account  of 
what  he  considered  his  in- 
fatuation.   He  escorted  her 
to  the  Academy  the  next 
day  with  a  foreboding  of 
disenchantment.        "  She 
will  show  some  depth  of  ignorance  and  bad 
taste,"  he  thought,  "  which  will  make  me  feel 


140  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

that  I  can  never  speak  to  her  again."  And  so 
he  was  in  no  haste  to  begin  his  inquisition,  for 
Tib  was  unusually  pretty  that  morning.  Win- 
nie had  hidden  her  battered  Tarn  o'Shanter  cap 
which  had  done  duty  all  summer,  and  had  lent 
her  own  broad-brimmed  hat  with  the  curl- 
ing ostrich  plumes.  She  had  tied  a  broad,  soft 
ribbon  around  Tib's  graceful  throat,  not  com- 
menting that  her  color,  which  came  and  went 
with  unusual  quickness,  matched  its  fresh  tint. 
She  had  accompanied  them  to  the  gallery,  but 
had  left  them  seated  before  Titian's  "  Assump- 
tion of  the  Virgin,"  and  had  rambled  off  on  a 
quest  of  her  own  after  the  pastel  portraits  of 
Rosalba  Camera. 

Tib  sat  silently  turning  the  leaves  of  her 
guide-book,  and  Angelo  Zanelli  noticed  with 
displeasure  that  she  did  not  look  at  the  great 
painting.  He  could  not  understand  such  ob- 
tuseness — or  was  it  perversity  ?  She  must  have 
heard  of  it.  Had  she  no  interest,  no  curios- 
ity even  in  this,  one  of  the  world's  master- 
pieces ?  Finally  she  looked  up,  and  her  atten- 
tion became  instantly  fixed.  He  watched  her 
furtively  until  she  came  out  of  her  day- 
dream, then  he  braced  himself  for  a  shock, 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  141 

and  it  came,  but  not  in  the  way  that  he  had  ex- 
pected. 

"It  is  such  a  foolish  thing,"  she  said,  "  to 
dread  being  disappointed,  not  to  dare  to  know 
the  real  truth  about  any  person  or  thing. 
Don't  you  think  so  ?" 

It  seemed  to  Angelo  Zanelli  that  she  had  read 
his  thought,  and  he  stammered  in  his  embar- 
rassment that  it  was  often  a  great  pleasure  to 
find  one's  self  mistaken. 

"  Is  it  not  ?"  Tib  replied.  "  I  am  so  relieved 
now.  I  have  seen  so  many  paintings  that 
seemed  to  me  overpraised  that  when  we  came 
in  I  actually  did  not  dare  to  look  at  this  won- 
derful picture.  As  if  Titian  could  disappoint ! 
•I  am  so  ashamed  of  myself  for  imagining  such 
a  thing!" 

The  count  was  surprised  and  delighted,  but 
was  still  far  from  suspecting  that  Tib's  mind 
was  as  highly  cultivated  and  as  fully  developed 
as  his  own  ;  but  he  realized  that  here,  at  least, 
was  an  appreciative  nature,  capable  of  the  high- 
est cultivation.  Without  being  priggish  or 
egotistic,  he  took  it  for  granted  that  his  own 
abilities  and  acquirements  were  superior  to  hers. 
He  fancied  that  hitherto  she  had  spent  her  life 


142  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

on  the  Long  Island  farm,  without  opportunities 
for  higher  education.  He  pitied  her  for  this 
deprivation,  and  his  soul  was  fired  with  the 
generous  resolve  to  enlighten  and  develop  her. 
He. believed  that  his  motives  were  purely  philan- 
thropic, and  he  set  about  the  task  at  once.  He 
led  her  to  his  favorites — the  paintings  of  the 
two  Bellinis,  in  which  the  Academy  is  so  rich — 
the  Madonnas  with  the  Christ  Child  of  the 
younger  and  greater  brother,  Giovanni,  attend- 
ed by  saints  and  angels,  among  which  are  some 
of  the  most  charming  child  faces  ever  painted. 
He  explained  the  pictures  with  great  pains,  and 
was  pleased  by  the  deep  admiration  with  which 
she  studied  them,  but  a  little  piqued  by  the 
rather  amused  look  with  which  she  received  his 
somewhat  elementary  instruction,  and  by  the 
light  curiosity  with  which  she  treated  the  large 
compositions  of  the  older  brother,  Gentile — 
those  imposing  backgrounds  of  architecture, 
concourses  of  people— especially  "  The  Proces- 
sion" and  the  "  Miracle  of  the  Holy  Cross." 
She  volunteered  the  remark  that  Gentile  Bel- 
lini's and  Carpaccio's  canvases  reminded  her 
of  old  fashion-plates  in  their  rendering  of  the 
costume  of  their  day  ;  he  felt  that  the  com- 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  143 

parison  was  frivolous,  and  assured  her  that  they 
were  the  most  important  of  records  existing 
concerning  the  architecture  and  life  of  the 
period — which  was  really  not  so  far  from 
what  she  had  intended  to  say.  She  listened 
politely,  as  though  she  had  never  heard  the  fact 
before,  to  his  information  that  Gentile  Bellini 
was  so  highly  considered  that  when  the  Sultan 
sent  for  the  best  painter  in  Venice  to  execute 
his  portrait  he  was  given  the  commission  ;  and 
much  that  he  told  her  of  Carpaccio,  the  connect- 
ing link  between  these  two  earliest  Venetian 
masters  and  the  four  great  men  who  followed 
*-;hem,  was  indeed  new  to  her. 

Winnie,  who  had  discreetly  left  them  to 
themselves,  reappeared  after  an  hour.  Her 
conscience  had  reproached  her  for  the  part  she 
had  played  at  the  outset  in  so  completely  lead- 
ing the  count  astray  in  his  estimate  of  her 
friend,  and  she  determined  to  give  him  every 
opportunity  of  modifying  the  opinion  which  he 
ha<?  formed.  She  found  him  deep  in  his  ex- 
position, and  was  rather  indignant  that  he  had 
occupied  the  time  in  imparting  information,  in- 
stead of  allowing  Tib  to  reveal  anything  of  her 
true  self.  She  yawned  behind  her  hand,  and 


144  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

expressing  herself  as  having  had  quite  enough 
of  pictures  for  one  morning,  insisted  on  return- 
ing home. 

But  the  count  had  only  begun  to  taste  the 
delight  of  developing  an  appreciative  mind, 
and  he  joined  them  that  evening  in  Professor 
Waite's  studio.  It  happened  that  for  some 
time  John  Nash  was  the  only  other  guest,  and 
that  he  suggested  that  they  should  resolve 
themselves  into  a  symposium  for  the  clearing 
up  of  their  ideas  in  relation  to  the  painters 
whose  works  they  were  continually  meeting, 
and  that  Professor  Waite  should  be  chairman. 

"  Yes,"  Tib  assented.  "Give  us  a  general 
picture  of  the  period,  and  frame  the  picture  in 
with  its  confining  dates.  Let  us  know  just 
which  names  stand  for  the  foreground  char- 
acters and  which  are  only  shadowy  background 
adjuncts  ;  give  us  the  relation  of  the  picture  to 
its  neighbors  in  the  other  cities  of  Italy.  Then 
we  will  select  the  men  that  interest  us  most  in 
the  picture,  and  you  can  tell  us  where  their 
best  work  is  to  be  found,  and  we  can  make  our 
pilgrimage  with  an  intelligent  purpose." 

She  made  the  request  with  the  kindly  im- 
pulse of  backing  up  John' s  real  thirst  for  in- 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  145 

formation,  but  the  count  thought  it  a  confes- 
sion of  her  own  need  for  instruction,  and  he  re- 
plied enthusiastically  that  such  a  condensation 
of  important  facts,  a  freshening  up  of  knowl- 
edge which  had  grown  rusty,  was  just  what 
they  all  needed. 

"  To  begin  with,"  Winnie  remarked,  "  I  wish 
you  would  tell  me  how  to  remember  dates.  I 
have  no  end  of  miscellaneous  knowledge,  but  it 
is  not  properly  pigeon-holed.  Dates  were  al- 
ways my  bugbv  ar  in  history." 

"  The  dates  of  Venetian  history  are  very 
easily  grouped  and  remembered,"  the  count  re- 
plied. "  You  have  only  to  iix  in  your  mind 
that  the  city  was  founded  in  400  A.D.,  and  that 
the  period  of  decline  began  in  1600,  after 
which  there  is  nothing  worthy  of  your  study, 
and  the  twelve  hundred  years  between  those 
dates  divide  and  subdivide  into  very  convenient 
periods.  For  instance,  halve  the  twelve  hun- 
dred, and  you  will  have  from  400  to  1000  A.D. 
six  hundred  years  of  quiet  growth,  and  from  1000 
to  1600  A.D.  six  hundred  years  of  brilliant  achieve- 
ment. Again  halve  this  latter  period,  and  we 
find  that  from  1000  to  1300  A.D.  we  have  three  hun- 
dred years  in  which  the  achievements  were  in 


146  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

war,  and  from  1300  to  1600  A.D.  three  hundred  of 
triumphs  in  the  arts  of  peace.  Halve  this  last 
period  of  three  hundred  years,  and  we  find  that 
the  first  one  hundred  and  fifty  years  are  given 
to  a  revival  of  scholarship  ;  and  the  last  cen- 
tury and  a  half,  from  1450  to  1600  A.D.,  belongs 
to  painting. " 

"  That  is  rather  odd,"  Professor  Waite  com- 
mented. "  I  never  saw  it  stated  in  just  that 
way  ;  but,  broadly  speaking,  the  generalization 
is  true.  The  most  brilliant  period  of  Venetian 
art,  the  period  which  you  wish  to  study,  is 
framed  in  just  that  century  and  a  half,  for  the 
Bellinis  began  to  paint  in  1450,  and  Veronese 
died  in  1588,  which  brings  us  very  close  to  1600, 
and  between  those  dates  we  have  the  entire 
careers  of  Giorgione,  Tintoretto,  Titian,  and 
Paul  Veronese.  It  was  the  Renaissance  when 
all  Italy  was  most  productive  in  men  of  genius. 
Have  you  ever  thought  that  while  the  entire 
country  was  divided  into  a  large  number  of 
petty  States,  only  two,  Florence  and  Venice, 
were  republics  ?  All  of  the  others  were  petty 
kingdoms  and  principalities  governed  by  des- 
pots. It  is  a  curious  fact,  too,  that  none  of  the 
other  States,  nor  all  of  them  together,  produced 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  147 

such  great  men  nor  so  many  of  them  as  these 
two  republics,  and  yet  life  in  Florence  and  in 
Venice  was  very  different.  In  Florence,  under 
the  Medici,  everything  was  in  a  state  of  unrest 
and  upheaval.  Savonarola  was  openly  at  war 
with  the  Pope,  new  ideas  were  being  discussed, 
and  the  Reformation  was  in  the  air.  In  poli- 
tics, revolution  after  revolution  succeeded  each 
other.  Any  man  might  dream  of  becoming  a 
prince,  like  Sforza,  or  a  companion  of  princes, 
like  Petrarch  ;  and,  aided  by  Lorenzo's  mag- 
nificent patronage,  and  spurred  by  the  specta- 
cle of  genius  all  about  him,  many  a  man  did 
rise  from  very  humble  antecedents  to  a  place  of 
eminence.  Everything  was  in  ferment,  and 
change  was  the  order  of  the  day.  In  Venice, 
on  the  contrary,  everything  was  quiet  and 
fixed.  Its  cautious  policy  insured  the  stability 
of  its  institutions.  Its  government  had  become 
a  close  and  suspicious  oligarchy.  Power  was 
confined  to  those  families  whose  names  were  in- 
scribed in  the  Golden  Book.  Executive  power 
was  gradually  restricted  to  'fewer  hands,  and 
that  secrecy  was  secured  which  we  are  told 
the  Venetians  regarded  as  the  highest  object 
of  government.  In  the  fifteenth  century  the 


148  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Council  of  Ten  was  supreme.  Perhaps  Count 
Zanelli  will  explain  to  us  how  it  happened  that 
while  she  was  a  republic  only  in  name,  she 
should  have  resembled  Florence  in  lifting  to 
the  highest  eminence  men  of  very  plebeian  ori- 
gin, and  that  the  most  aristocratic  society  in 
Italy  should  have  done  honor  to  the  sons  of  a 
dyer  and  a  peasant." 

"The  answer  is  a  simple  one,"  Angelo  re- 
plied. "  Venice  at  this  time  resembled  a  deep 
and  placid  lake  walled  in  by  the  strong  sluice- 
gates of  her  institutions,  and  apparently  un- 
ruffled by  the  tossing  tumult  of  the  rapids,  the 
intense  current  of  the  mill-race,  or  the  tremen- 
dous leap  of  the  cataract  in  the  neighboring 
States.  But  just  as  the  mill-pond  above  the 
dam  feels  the  strong  drawing  of  those  silent, 
unseen  undercurrents,  which  break  into  foam 
and  clamor  below,  so  Venice  under  her  stately 
calm  was  full  of  the  intensity  of  the  impending 
change  from  medievalism  to  modernity,  and  it 
was  this  strong  undercurrent  which  kept  the 
waters  of  her  life  pure,  and  differentiated  the 
living  lake  from  a  stagnant  tarn.  The  doge- 
ship  of  Foscari  was  perhaps  the  most  luxurious 
era  that  Venice  ever  witnessed.  She  had  con- 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTF-RS.  149 

quered  her  pre-eminence  and  had  not  yet  lost 
it.  The  princely  living  made  possible  by  the 
accumulation  of  great  wealth  in  our  lordly  city 
is  reflected  in  the  sumptuous  paintings  of  that 
magnificent  group  of  colorists  to  which  the  pro- 
fessor has  referred.  The  banquets  of  Paul 
Veronese  could  only  have  been  painted  in  a 
state  of  society  where  such  lavish  hospitality 
was  the  rule.  But  Venice  entertained  guests  not 
only  from  every  part  of  Italy,  but  from  every 
part  of  the  world.  She  knew  what  was  going 
on  in  the  cities  about  her.  She  discussed  the 
ideas  that  were  agitating  Florence.  She  was 
broad-minded,  ready  to  accept  the  new.  The 
Renaissance  in  literature  had  already  been  em- 
braced by  her  in  architecture  ;  it  was  rapidly 
changing  the  appearance  of  the  city.  In  relig- 
ion and  politics  the  new  ideas  worked  in  a 
more  covert  way,  but  the  new  principle  of  the 
brotherhood  of  man  was  felt,  and  when  genius 
appeared  it  was  recognized  and  honored.  But 
enough  of  the  background  ;  now  kindly  tell  us, 
professor,  of  our  four  artist  heroes,  and  first  of 
Giorgione." 

"  To  me  Titian  is  the  central  figure  in  the 
picture,"  said  Professor  Waite,  "  f or  he  lived 


150  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

so  long  that  his  life  covered  the. career  of  the 
others,  and  was  the  connecting  link  between 
them.  Giorgione  and  Titian  were  fellow-stu- 
dents in  the  studio  of  the  Bellinis.  The  young 
Tiziano,  who  had  come  down  from  his  moun- 
tain home  at  Cadore,  won  to  the  study  of  art 
by  the  solemn  majesty  of  nature,  is  thought  by 
his  biographers  to  have  been  a  serious  youth, 
*  a  steady  and  patient  worker,  following  all  the 
rules  and  the  discipline  of  his  master,  and  tak- 
ing into  his  capacious  brain  everything  that 
could  be  taught  him  ;  whereas  young  Giorgione 
was  more  masterful  and  impatient,  and  with  a 
quicker  eye  and  insight  (having  so  much  less 
time  to  do  his  work  in)  seized  upon  those 
points  in  which  his  genius  could  have  full 
play.'  Giorgione  (Big  George),  or  Torzo  da 
Castelfranco,  on  leaving  Bellini's  studio,  re- 
turned to  Castelfranco,  but  after  executing  a 
few  orders,  came  back  to  Venice  and  took  a 
house  not  far  from  the  Rialto.  It  is  held  by 
some  that  he  and  Titian  entered  into  a  partner- 
ship to  decorate  the  exterior  of  buildings  with 
frescoes — they  certainly  worked  together  on  the 
Fondaco  de  Tedeschi,  where  Tintoretto's  wall 
was  the  more  generally  praised.  Only  a  few 


TEE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  151 

vestiges  of  color  are  left  of  these  paintings, 
which,  like  most  of  the  exterior  mural  paint- 
ings of  Venice,  have  been  destroyed  by  mois- 
ture. '  Giorgione  '  is  said  by  one  authority  '  to 
have  originated  genre  painting.  His  subjects 
are  always  charming,  containing  nothing  base 
or  low,  and  confined  to  very  simple  groups  of 
few  figures.  He  was  also  famous  for  his  por- 
traits. He  was  a  great  favorite  in  Venetian  so- 
ciety on  account  of  his  fine  presence,  agreeable 
manners,  and  great  skill  as  a  musician.  His 
nature  was  that  of  a  true  poet— profoundly 
thoughtful,  yet  at  the  same  time  taking  an  in- 
nocent pleasure  in  life.  There  are  compara- 
tively few  of  his  paintings  left  us.'  It  was 
Ruskin  who  assured  him  the  immortality  which 
his  works  deserve,  though  Ruskin  is  not  to  be 
trusted  in  all  of  his  passionate  magnificent  as- 
sertions. If  you  will  hand  me  that  unpretend- 
ing little  book  I  will  read  you  an  extract  from 
Karl  Karoly,  who  sums  up  briefly  and:  well  the 
life  of  Jacopo  Robusti,  called  H  Tintoretto  (The 
Little  Dyer),  from  his  father's  business  : 

"  *  He  worked  for  a  short  time  in  the  studio 
of  Titian ;  but  not  being  on  good  terms  with 
his  master,  left  after  ten  days.  Over  the  door 


152  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

of  his  studio  he  is  said  to  have  inscribed,  as  a 
definition  of  the  style  he  preferred,  "  The  draw- 
ing of  Michael  Angelo  and  the  coloring  of 
Titian." 

"  l  After  some  years  of  struggle  and  poverty 
he  became  famous,  and  married  Faustina,  the 
daughter  of  Marco  di  Viscovi,  a  Venetian 
nobleman.  They  lived  in  a  beautiful  house  in 
the  Calle  Larga  (No.  3162),  which  is  now  called 
the  Palazzo  Camello.  Tintoretto  was  of  a  kind 
and  genial  disposition,  and  something  of  a  wit. 
He  was  very  generous  ;  and  his  wife,  who  was 
quite  the  opposite,  would  give  him  when  he* 
went  out  a  small  sum  of  money,  and  on  his  re- 
turn required  an  account  of  how  he  had  spent 
it.  Tintoretto  was  very  fond  of  his  daughter 
Marietta,  who  worked  in  his  studio  dressed  as 
a  boy.  She  became  very  proficient  as  a  por- 
trait painter,  and  received  some  brilliant  offers 
to  go  to  the  courts  of  Philip  II.  of  Spain  and 
Maximilian,  but  she  refused  to  leave  Venice. 
She  married  a  German  jeweller.  To  acquire  a 
knowledge  of  foreshortening,  Tintoretto  made 
models  in  wax,  which  he  hung  up  in  his  studio 
in  a  variety  of  positions,  and  drew  them  from 
every  point  of  view.  Tintoretto  was  the  most 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  153 

imaginative  of  all  painters.  It  is  only  in  Yen- 
ice  that  lie  can  properly  be  studied.  In  judg- 
ing of  his  works,  it  must  be  remembered  that 
he  worked  most  rapidly  and  on  a  large  scale  ; 
that  he  did  not  care  what  the  public  thought  of 
his  works,  and  only  completed  them  when  he 
felt  in  the  humor  to  do  so  ;  and  that  he  was  the 
most  unequal  of  all  painters. 

"  '  In  many  respects,  Tintoretto  resembled 
Michael  Angelo,  especially  in  savage  originality 
and  energy  of  will.  The  feverish  energy  of  his. 
work  acquired  for  him  .the  name  of  the  "  Furi- 
oso."  Venice  is  full  of  the  works  of  Tinto- 
retto, which  are  now  generally  in  a  bad  condi- 
tion, "  foul  with  the  disfigurements  of  mildew, 
and  all  but  invisible  in  the  dead  blackness 
which  has  crept  over  their  splendor." 

"It  is  but  just  that  this  should  be  ex- 
plained," said  Winnie,  "for  both  Tib  and  I 
were  greatly  disappointed  with  the  Scuola  di 
San  Rocco,  which  Ruskin  calls  one  of  the  three 
most  precious  buildings  in  Italy,  on  account  of 
the  sixty-two  paintings  by  Tintoretto  with 
which  it  is  decorated  (the  other  two  being  the 
Sistine  Chapel  and  the  Campo  Santo  of  Pisa). 
We  were  distressed  at  first  at  our  own  lack  of 


154  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

appreciation  until  we  found  that  Ruskin  him- 
self admits  that  they  were  all  painted  for  their 
badly  lighted  positions,  and  are  for  the  most 
part  nothing  more  than  vast  sketches  made  to 
produce,  under  a  certain  degree  of  shadow,  the 
effect  of  finished  pictures.  Some  are  really  fin- 
ished, while  others  '  seem  to  have  been  painted 
in  a  couple  of  hours  with  a  broom  for  a  brush. ' 
He  describes  the  series  in  detail  in  his  *  Stones 
of  Venice' — all  but  'The  Crucifixion,' and  of 
this  he  says  simply,  '  I  must  leave  this  picture 
to  work  its  will  on  the  spectator  ;  for  it  is  be- 
yond all  analysis  and  above  all  praise. ' ' 

"  We  studied  the  '  Paradise,'  too,  in  the 
Ducal  Palace, "  said  Tib,  "very  carefully  with 
an  opera-glass  ;  but  until  Professor  Waite  ex- 
plained the  picture  we  could  make  nothing  of 
it,  and  we  were  much  consoled  when  we  found 
that  Taine  said  that  all  he  could  make  out  *  was 
a  mass  of  figures  whirling  in  a  reddish  light, 
which  seemed  that  of  a  conflagration.' 

"  Walter  Thornbury,  in  his  poem  on  Tintoretto 
painting  his  dead  daughter,  makes  the  artist 
allude  to  his  rivalry  with  Titian  in  these  words  : 

"  '  That  Titian's  still  before  me  in  the  race  ; 

The  harpies  snatch  this  angel  from  my  side, 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  155 

And  leave  his  proud-eyed  girl  with  lavish  hair 
And  great  white  shoulders,  to  enhance  his  pride, 

And  serve  round  sweetmeats  to  the  senators, 
Who  flock  to  him  by  dozens,  to  hand  down 

To  ages  heedless  of  the  boon,  each  vacant  face, 
Steeped  in  one  dull  dark  fog  of  golden  brown. 

"  '  He  fills  the  churches,  palaces,  and  halls, 

'Tis  he  who  sweeps  the  ducats  to  his  lap, 
He  paints  the  emperors,  cardinals,  and  popes  ; 
To  him  the  meanest  boatman  doffs  his  cap. 

"  '  Yet  we  shall  meet  in  Paradise,  and  there 

She'll  smile  to  see  St.  Luke  my  withered  hand 
Grasp  at  the  golden  gate,  while  Titian  takes 
The  lower  seat.    I  have  him  on  the  hip. ' 

You  may  call  me  lacking  in  appreciation  of  the 
more  heroic  qualities,  but  to  me  Titian  is  the  great- 
est painter  of  them  all.  His  career  is  so  wonder- 
ful, when  one  thinks  that  at  thirty-five  he  was 
without  a  rival  throughout  all  Europe,  and  the 
record  of  his  work  is  simply  incredible,  even 
when  we  take  into  consideration  the  fact  that 
he  painted  until  his  ninety -ninth  year.  All  the 
great  galleries  of  Europe  appear  to  possess 
numerous  examples  of  his  works — and  what  a 
variety  of  subjects  !— sacred  and  profane  his- 
tory, mythological  legends,  landscapes  and  por- 


156  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

traits— and  to  me  these  are  best  of  all— and 
how  many  he  painted  !  Nearly  every  great 
potentate  of  Europe  of  the  sixteenth  century 
ordered  his  portrait  of  Titian — Charles  V.  sev- 
eral times  ;  Philip  II.  ;  Francis  I.  of  France  ; 
the  Sultan  Solyman  ;  Popes  Clement  VII. ,  Paul 
III.,  and  Paul  IV.  ;  all  the  doges  of  his  time ; 
the  Dukes  of  Urbino  and  Alba  ;  the  Constable 
de  Bourbon  ;  Andrea  Doria,  of  Genoa  ;  Caesar 
Borgia  ;  Count  Castiglione  ;  Cardinals  Ippolito 
de  Medici,  Bembo,  Sforza,  and  Farnese ;  Ari- 
osto  ;  Tasso  ;  Sansovino,  and  many  others— a 
complete  historical  gallery  illustrating  the  time 
in  which  he  lived,  and  all  of  them  master- 
pieces. I  admire  him  even  more  as  a  delinea- 
tor of  character  than  as  a  master  of  color.  I 
think  Ruskin  does  him  justice  for  once  when 
he  says  that  beside  the  senatorial  dignity  of 
his  old  Venetian  nobles  all  our  modern  gentle- 
men look  poor  and  small,  and  I  wonder  if 
women  were  so  much  more  beautiful  in  his 
day,  so  much  happier  than  they  are  now,  as 
they  appear  to  be  in  his  joyous  paintings  ? 
What  do  you  think,  Count  Zanelli  ?." 

Angelo  Zanelli  had  been  following  Tib  in- 
tently as  she  spoke  rapidly  and  enthusiast!- 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  157 

cally.  It  was  a  revelation,  and  he  could  scarce- 
ly credit  that  this  girl,  upon  whom  he  had 
looked  down  so  patronizingly,  could  not  only 
talk  so  well,  but  actually  knew  of  what  she  was 
talking.  But  her  direct  question  turned  the 
current  of  his  thought. 

"  We  have  one  ancestral  portrait,  said  to 
have  been  painted  by  Titian,"  he  replied, 
"  though  it  is  not  signed.  It  hangs  between 
those  windows  ;  you  can  judge  whether  a  man 
.of  my  race  might  really  have  looked  like  that." 

They  all  turned  to  the  portrait  in  question — 
that  of  a  very  noble-looking  man,  past  the 
prime  of  life,  gowned  in  black,  with  sunken 
eyes  and  an  emaciated,  scholarly  face. 

"  I  do  not  think  that  Titian  added  any  flat- 
tering touch  of  his  own  to  that  face,"  said  Ade- 
laide ;  "  it  is  such  a  one  as  yours  will  become 
when  you  are  old." 

The  count  laughed  in  a  forced  way.  "  You 
have  paid  me  no  compliment,"  he  said.  "  Do 
not  repeat  it  to  my  mother  ;  but  there  are  un- 
canny tales  told  of  that  benevolent-looking  indi- 
vidual ;  that  he  was  an  alchemist  and  worse, 
and  that  the  motto  on  the  scroll,  '  I  die  that 
others  may  live,'  was  true,  but  in  no  good 


158  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

sense.  He  died  as  a  serpent  dies,  crasheu 
in  order  that  he  might  injure  no  more  by  his 
nefarious  arts.  It  is  ^a  noble  ancestry  that  I 
boast,  is  it  not  ?" 

He  seemed  so  excited  that  Professor  Waite 
hastened  to  bring  the  conversation  back  to  safe 
and  impersonal  ground.  "  Titian  was  always 
a  gentleman,"  he  said  ;  "he  had  received  a 
learned  education,  and  had  polished  manners. 
His  wife,  Cecilia,  died  in  1530,  and  his  sister, 
Orsa,  came  from  his  birthplace,  the  mountain 
town  of  Cadore,  to  live  with  him  in  the  house 
you  visited.  It  was  then  a  fashionable  part 
of  Venice,  and  Titian  lived  very  luxurious- 
ly, entertaining  much.  He  had  three  chil- 
dren— Pomponio,  who  was  such  a  wild  youth, 
even  after  he  became  a  priest,  that  his  father 
would  not  allow  him  to  accept  a  bishopric 
which  was  offered  him,  as  he  was  certain 
that  he  would  disgrace  it ;  Orazio,  who  was  a 
scholar  and  an  inventor  (it  is  said  an  alchemist, 
too ;  so  your  ancestor  had  good  company, 
count) ;  and  a  much-loved  daughter,  Lavinia, 
whom  he  painted  bearing  a  great  dish  of  fruit, 
the  product  probably  of  his  garden.  He  loved 
to  deck  her  with  jewels,  and  bought  an  organ 


TEE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  159 

for  her  use.  She  married  a  gentleman  of  the 
Cadore  country,  and  went  back  to  live  among 
the  mountains,  where  her  father  frequently 
visited  her.  Among  the  noble  guests  whom  he 
entertained  was  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  It  is 
possible  that  Caesar  Borgia  had  his  portrait  in 
that  very  house,  for  he  was  in  Venice  for  a 
short  time  with  his  three  hundred  horsemen, 
and  the  discourteous  guests  stole  even  the 
hangings  of  their  beds  when  they  left.  It  is 
said  that  Caesar  himself  stole  an  altar  cloth 
which  he  fancied.  I  have  here  a  curious  let- 
ter from  one  of  Titian's  guests— the  scholar 
Priscianese — who,  writing  back  to  Rome,  de- 
scribes a  dinner  at  Titian's  house.  It  is  such  a 
good  picture  that  I  will  read  it : 

"  '  I  was  invited  on  the  1st  of  August  to  cele- 
brate a  feast  in  the  delightful  garden  of  Messer 
Tiziano  Yecelli,  a  most  excellent  painter  and  a 
person  truly  adapted  to  season  with  courtesies 
any  distinguished  entertainment.  There  were 
assembled  with  the  said  Messer  Tiziano — as  like 
desires  like — some  of  the  rarest  geniuses  which 
are  found  at  present  in  this  city,  principally 
Messer  Pietro  Aretino,  a  new  miracle  of  na- 
ture, and  next  to  him  II  Sansovino,  almost  as 


160  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

great  an  imitator  of  nature  with  the  chisel  as 
was  the  master  of  the  feast  with  the  pencil ; 
also  Messer  Jacopo  Nardi  and  myself,  so  that 
I  made  the  fourth  among  such  wisdom.  Here, 
before  they  set  out  the  tables— for  although  the 
place  was  shady  the  sun  still  made  his  strength 
felt— the  time  was  passed  in  contemplation  of 
the  lifelike  figures  in  the  excellent  paintings 
of  which  the  house  was  full,  and  in  discussing 
the  beauty  and  charm  of  the  garden,  which  was 
a  pleasure  and  a  wonder  to  every  one. 

"  '  It  is  situated  in  the  extreme  part  of  Yen- 
ice,  upon  the  sea,  and  from  it  may  be  seen  the 
pretty  island  of  Murano  and  other  beautiful 
places.  This  part  of  the  sea,  as  soon  as  the  sun 
went  down,  was  filled  with  a.  thousand  little 
gondolas  adorned  with  beautiful  women,  and 
resounded  with  divers  harmonies,  the  music  of 
voices  and  instruments,  which  till  midnight  ac- 
companied our  delightful  supper.  In  the  mean 
while  came  the  hour  for  supper,  which  was  no 
less  beautiful  and  well  arranged  than  plentifully 
provided.  Besides  the  most  delicate  viands 
and  precious  wines,  there  were  all  those  pleas- 
ures and  amusements  that  were  appropriate  to 
the  season,  the  guests,  and  the  feast.  Having 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  161 

just  arrived  at  the  fruit,  your  letter  came. 
Finally  the  supper  ended  most  pleasantly. ' 

"  Many  another  supper  ended  in  the  same 
way  at  that  hospitable  house  ;  but  at  length 
the  plague  came  again  to  Venice,  and  the  great 
artist  died  there  quite  alone.  Sister  Orsa  was 
dead,  Lavinia  away  in  her  mountain  home, 
Pomponio  careless,  and  Orazio  lay  dying  at  the 
same  time  at  the  public  pest-house.  It  is  said 
that  robbers  broke  in  and  sacked  the  house 
before  his  dying  eyes  ;  but  that  is  hardly  cred- 
ible, for  no  hope  of  plunder  could  have  induced 
even  a  brigand  to  enter  a  plague-infected  house." 

"  It  seems  as  if  Byron  must  have  been  think- 
ing of  Titian's  house  and  garden,"  said  Win- 
nie, "  when  he  wrote  : 

"  '  In  Venice  Tasso's  echoes  are  no  more, 
And  silent  rows  the  songless  gondolier. 

Her  palaces  are  crumbling  to  the  shore, 
Those  days  are  gone,  but  beauty  still  is  here  : 

States  fall  and  fade,  but  Nature  doth  not  die, 
Nor  yet  forget  how  Venice  once  was  dear, 

The  pleasant  place  of  all  festivity, 

The  revel  of  the  earth,  the  mosque  of  Italy.'  " 

"  Oh,  no  !"  Tib  exclaimed.  "  I  am  sure  that 
was  suggested  by  Paul  Veronese's  great  ban- 


162  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

quet  scenes,  as  well  as  this  description  of  Ven- 
ice : 

"  '  She  looks  a  sea  Cybele  fresh  from  ocean, 

Rising  -with  her  tiara  of  proud  towers 
At  airy  distance  with  majestic  motion, 

A  ruler  of  the  waters  and  their  powers. 

And  such  she  was  ;  her  daughters  had  their  dowers 
From  spoils  of  nations,  and  the  exhaustless  East 

Pour'd  in  her  lap  all  gems  in  sparkling  showers. 
In  purple  was  she  robed,  and  at  her  feasts 
Monarchs  partook,  and  deemed  their  dignity  increased.'  " 

"It  is  very  possible,"  said  Professor  Waite, 
who  had  been  consulting  several  books  and  had 
marked  some  passages.  "  '  Paolo  was  the  son 
of  Gabriele  Caliari,  an  obscure  sculptor,  and  was 
born  at  Verona ;  hence  his  appellation  Veronese. 

"  '  He  went  to  Venice  about  1555.  When  he 
arrived  he  was  already  an  accomplished  artist, 
but  he  learned  much  from  Titian,  who  held  him 
in  high  esteem.  He  was  for  a  time  in  Rome 
with  the  Venetian  ambassador  Grimani ;  and  it 
was  on  his  return  to  Venice  that  his  brilliant 
career  began.  Veronese  was  a  man  of  amiable 
manners,  of  a  liberal,  generous  spirit,  and  ex- 
tremely pious.' 

"  Of  the  many  descriptions  of  Veronese's 
*  Fame  of  Venice, '  or  '  Venice  Enthroned '  (on 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  163 

the  ceiling  near  the  *  Paradise ')  Taine's  is  the 
best : 

"  '  Amid  grand  architectural  forms  of  balco- 
nies and  spiral  columns  sits  Venice,  the  blonde, 
on  a  throne  radiant  with  beauty,  a  queen  whose 
mere  rank  gives  the  right  to  be  happy,  and 
whose  only  desire  is  to  render  those  who  see 
her  happy  also.  On  her  serene  head,  which  is 
thrown  slightly  backward,  two  angels  place  a 
crown.  Beneath,  on  a  balustrade,  are  Venetian 
ladies  in  the  costume  of  the  time — in  low-neck 
dresses,  cut  square  and  closely  fitting  the  body. 
It  is  actual  society,  and  is  as  seductive  as  the 
goddess.  There  is  not  one  who  is  not  merely 
cheerful  but  joyous. 

"  It  is  of  this  painting  that  a  poet  writes : 

"  '  How  didst  thou  once,  Venetia,  gorgeously 
Flaunt  like  a  haughty  queen  in  gold  array, 
As  Paolo  Veronese  painted  thee  1 ' 

r '  :  His  canvases  are  nearly  always  large,  and 
his  subjects  incidents  which  admit  of  being  ren- 
dered with  pomp  and  magnificence.  He  loved 
to  depict  scenes  of  costly  splendor,  to  which  he 
gave  scriptural  names,  but  which  were  in  real- 
ity Venetian  life  of  the  day.  He  painted  all 


164  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

subjects,  even  the  most  solemn,  in  the  same 
gorgeous  style.  He  was  precisely  the  painter 
suited  to  a  nation  of  successful  merchants. 
His  coloring  differs  from  that  of  his  great  rivals 
in  its  silvery  transparency.  He  died  in  1588, 
and  was  buried  in  the  Church  of  San  Sebastiano. ' 

"  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  justly  characterized 
the  mode  of  composition  and  execution  peculiar 
to  the  Venetians  as  the  decorative  style.  This 
involves  a  strange  luxury  of  arcades,  porticos, 
balconies,  and  staircases,  and  of  rich  silks  and 
draperies,  which  was  somewhat  detrimental  to 
the  ideality  of  the  subject. 

"  This  completes  our  brief  survey  of  the 
great  quartette.  It  has  certainly  been  a  good 
idea  to  fix  them  distinctly  in  our  minds  while 
we  are  studying  their  works.  It  is  only  a 
superficial  glance ;  but  if  we  supplement  it 
with  more  earnest  study  our  time  has  not  been 
lost." 

"  I  could  have  said  that  myself  to  you  an 
hour  ago  with  the  same  professorial  dignity 
and  condescension,"  said  Angelo  Zanelli  to 
Tib  ;  ' '  but  I  see  now  that  you  have  really  given 
the  subject  very  earnest  study  already,  and  I 
beg  your  pardon  for  presuming  hitherto  to  take 


THE  VENETIAN  PAINTERS.  165 

the  tone  of  a  tutor.  You  must  have  been 
laughing  at  my  ridiculous  airs.  I  descend 
from  the  rostrum.  After  this,  as  in  the  old 
days,  when  you  were  Nellie  Zanelli  and  I  was 
Lolo,  when  I  want  instruction  about  Venice  I 
will  come  to  you." 

"  You  are  wrong  in  thinking  that  I  have 
been  laughing  at  you,"  Tib  began  ;  but  Winnie 
interrupted  her. 

"  Indeed  we  have,  though.  It  was  such  fun 
to  take  you  in  that  first  night  here,  when  you 
imagined  us  two  giddy,  rattle-pated  girls." 

"  So  that  was  a  little  play  acted  for  my  bene- 
fit ?' '  he  asked. 

"  Yes  ;  and  we  had  begun  to  feel  that  we 
had  acted  it  too  well,  and  to  wonder  how  we 
should  ever  gain  your  good  opinion. " 

It  was  Tib  who  spoke  ;  and  the  count  replied : 

"  Teach  me  ho\v  to  gain  yours.  Density  such 
as  mine  has  been  ought  not  to  be  pardoned  too 
easily,  and  should  have  a  long  penance  and  a 
hard  one." 

"  Your  penance  shall  be  to  continue  your 
kind  instruction,  and  believe  me,  Winnie  and  I 
are  most  grateful  for  this  delightful  introduc- 
tion to  Venice." 


CHAPTER  X. 


A   FESTA. 

OUNT  ANGELO'S  pen- 
ance, though  it  did  not 
seem  hard,  was  certainly  a 
long  one.  The  mornings 
were  still  sacred  to  work, 
but  every  afternoon  he 
devoted  to  showing  the 
girls  some  new  part  of 
Venice.  Now  it  was 
some  masterpiece  of 
one  of  the  great  paint- 
ers, hidden  away  in  an  obscure  church — one 
afternoon  Tintoretto's  in  the'  Church  of  the 
Madonna  dell'  Orto — and  in  the  morning  he 
ev°n  wilily  suggested  that  he  could  guide 
them  to  out-of-the-way  spots  for  their  sketch- 
ing, to  Tintoretto's  house  with  the  carved 
camel  over  the  window,  to  some  cloistered 
court  with  a  carved  stone  well-curb  in  the 


A  FESTA.  167 

centre,  or  to  a  staircase  with  exquisite  balus- 
trades, to  one  of  the  canopied  Madonnas,  or 
to  the  Giudecca  with  its  fishing-boats  and  the 
distant  spires  reflected  in  the  lagoon. 

And  though  with  each  pilgrimage  he  obtained 
new  insight  into  their  character,  and  compre- 
hended how  little  they  needed  his  tutorship, 
still  he  did  not  cease  his  friendly  ministrations, 
though  his  conversation  became  less  didactic 
and  lost  every  vestige  of  patronage,  and  the 
"mad  pride  of  intellectuality."  There  was 
not  much  chat  of  any  kind  during  these  days. 
They  simply  stood  silently  together  before  the 
great  paintings,  seeming  to  know  by  intuition 
what  the  other  thought  about  them,  while 
Winnie  filled  their  silences  with  her  lightsome 
chatter. 

Were  there  ever  such  beautiful  days  as  those 
which  came  with  the  early  spring  ?  The  gray, 
sodden  clouds,  which  had  often  settled  during 
the  winter  into  dismal  rain,  rolled  away  in 
great  billowing  masses  and  crowned  the  Alps 
on  the  northern  horizon,  piling  themselves  in 
mimic  mountain  ranges  above  the  real  ones, 
leaving  the  dome  of  heaven  a  clear  crystalline 
blue.  They  were  in  their  gondolas  all  day  long, 


168  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

and  in  the  clear,  starlit  nights,  when  the  canals 
were  all  aglow  with  twinkling  lights  and  sway- 
ing, many- colored  lanterns,  they  followed  in 
the  wake  of  the  serenading  barges,  listening  to 
and  joining  in  the  songs. 

The  Church  of  the  Salute  had  always  charmed 
Tib  as  she  watched  it  from  their  balcony,  and 
Angel  o  was  especially  fond  of  it.  They  could 
both  say,  with  Hopkinson  Smith  : 

"  This  beautiful  church  is  always  my  rendez- 
vous. It  is  half-way  to  everything — to  the 
Public  Garden ;  across  the  Giudecca ;  away 
over  to  the  Lagoon,  where  the  fishermen  live  ; 
to  the  Bialto  and  beyond.  In  the  freshness  of 
the  morning,  when  its  lovely  dome  throws  a 
cool  shadow  across  its  piazza,  there  is  no  better 
place  for  a  painter  to  make  up  his  mind  where 
he  would  work." 

The  count  claimed  the  privilege  of  showing 
the  church  to  the  girls  on  the  occasion  of  the 
great  annual  festival.  They  walked  across  the 
bridge  of  boats  which  was  thrown  across  the 
Grand  Canal. 

"  Salute  means  health,  does  it  not  ?"  Tib 
asked,  looking  up  at  the  beautiful  building. 

"  Yes,"  the  count  replied ;  "  the  convent  was 


-  A  FESTA.  169 

built  by  the  city  of  Venice  on  ground  formerly 
belonging  to  the  Knights  Templars  as  a  votive 
offering  on  the  cessation  of  the  last  visit  of  the 
plague." 

"  How  many  times  has  the  city  suffered  from 
that  scourge  ?' ' 

"  Seventy.  It  is  the  price  we  pay  for  our 
close  intercourse  with  the  East.  She  shares 
with  us  her  curses  as  well  as  her  treasures. 
The  first  Crusaders  brought  it  back  with  their 
spoils.  There  is  hardly  a  Venetian  family  but 
has  among  its  annals  some  tradition  of  tragedy 
connected  with  its  ravages.  Titian,  painting 
grandly  in  his  hundredth  year,  could  not  die 
until  the  plague  struck  him.  -  Giorgione,  they 
say,  took  it  from  the  lips  of  his  lady  love. 
Strange  to  say,  our  own  family  has  been  spared, 
when,  if  tradition  speaks  the  truth,  we  should 
have  felt  its  heaviest  fury." 

His  face  was  so  dark  that  Tib  did  not  ask 
him  what  he  meant.  They  passed  into  the 
church  and  quietly  watched  the  ceremony  of 
lighting  the  tapers.  Each  pilgrim  handed  a 
wax  candle  to  the  attendant,  who  lighted  it 
and  placed  it  on  the  altar,  until  gradually  the 
dusky  place  was  all  aglow. 


170  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Angelo  handed  a  taper  to  the  attendant  and 
looked  at  Tib  questioningly.  "  I  suppose  that 
seems  to  you  like  idolatry,"  he  said. 

"No,"  she  replied.  "I  was  thinking  of  a 
poem  I  have  always  loved  : 

"  '  Now  the  stars  are  lit  in  heaven 

We  must  light  our  lamps  on  earth. 
Every  star  a  signal  given 

From  the  God  of  our  new  birth, 
Every  lamp  an  answer  faint, 
Like  the  prayer  of  mortal  saint.' ' 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  simply.  "  Let  us  go 
before  it  is  dark  into  the  larger  sacristy  and 
see  Tintoretto's  painting  of  '  The  Marriage  at 
Cana.' " 

This  subject  was  a  favorite  of  Paul  Vero- 
nese's, and  the  girls  well  remembered  his  two 
large  paintings  in  the  Louvre,  "The  Marriage 
at  Cana"  and  the  "  Feast  at  the  House  of  Simon 
the  Leper,"  and  Tib  recalled  the  pictures  to 
their  guide.  "  It.  seems  to  me,"  she  said, 
"  with  all  due  deference  to  your  favorite  mas- 
ter Tintoretto,  that  he  can  hardly  have  sur- 
passed Veronese  in  this  subject,  for  here  Vero- 
nese iss  on  his  own  ground — luxury  of  appoint- 
ment, the  physical  enjoyment  of  the  guests 


A  FESTA.  171 

sumptuous  robes,  fair  women,  and  a  general  air 
of  state,  and  the  pride  of  position.  If  I  remem- 
ber rightly,  there  were  a  hundred  and  thirty 
figures  in  '  The  Marriage  at  Ca'na,'  and  yet 
there  was  no  effect  of  crowding.  There  was 
room  and  to  spare  at  that  great  banquet,  where 
the  table  groaned  with  gold,  and  each  guest 
was  served  as  a  king." 

"  This  picture  of  Tintoretto's  is  very  differ- 
ently treated,"  Zanelli  replied.  "  Ruskin  says 
it  is  perhaps  the  most  perfect  example  which 
human  art  has  produced  of  the  utmost  possible 
force  and  sharpness  of  shadow  united  with  rich- 
ness of  local  color — color  as  rich  as  Titian's, 
with  light  and  shade  as  forcible  as  Rem- 
brandt's. These  are  painter  qualities  rather 
than  pictorial  ones,  though  the  picture  does 
tell  its  story.  See  that  woman  in  the  fore- 
ground, stretching  her  cap  across  the  table  to 
show  the  wine  in  it  to  the  astonished  men  op- 
posite her  ?  Ruskin  thinks  that  the  fourth  of 
the  female  figures,  counting  from  the  Madonna, 
is  intended  for  the  bride,  and  that  her  face  is 
the  most  beautiful  that  Tintoretto  ever  painted, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Madonna  in  the 
'  Flight  into  Egypt.'" 


172  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

They  studied  the  painting  until  the  darkness 
came,  and  then  they  took  a  gondola  at  the 
church  steps,  and  were  rowed  up  the  canal  a  lit- 
tle distance  to  watch  the  fresco  or  out-of-door 
celebration  of  the  fete. 

"  It  was  far  more  gorgeous  in  the  old  days,' ' 
Angelo  explained.  "  Immense  sums  were 
expended  by  the  city  on  regattas  and  illu- 
minations, and  there  was  much  rivalry  between 
the  two  factions  of  the  gondoliers,  the  blacks 
and  the  reds,  -while  private  individuals  brought 
out  their  gala  gondolas,  gilded  barges  adorned 
with  carvings  and  brocades,  and  manned  by 
crews  in  beautiful  and  fantastic  costumes." 

The  fresco  this  evening  was  a  comparatively 
simple  affair,  consisting  of  fireworks  on  the 
Rialto.  Several  bouquets  of  rockets  were  sent 
up  from  the  centre  of  the  bridge,  and  then  from 
under  it  a  barge  of  light  flashed  into  the  middle 
of  the  stream.  The  barge  was  towed  by  a  tug, 
which  glided  on  so  far  in  advance  that  it  seemed 
to  be  moving  of  its  own  will.  Four  tall  masts, 
from  which  fluttered  huge  gonfalons,  shot  up 
as  though  by  magic  as  the  barge  emerged  from 
the  arch,  while  in  the  centre  of  the  boat  a 
magical  palm-tree  opened  like  a  huge  umbrella. 


A  FE8TA.  173 

Each  of  its  hundreds  of  pendulous  fronds  was 
tipped  with  an  electrical  light,  and  the  en- 
tire mechanism  covered  the  musicians,  who  sat 
beneath,  as  with  a  canopy  of  blazing  jewels. 
Their  gondolier  dexterously  eluded  the  other 
small  craft  that  were  lying  in  wait  for  the  first 
place,  and  followed  in  the  wake  next  to  the 
musicians'  barge. 

"How  enchanting  it  all  is  !"  Tib  exclaimed. 
"  Some  one  has  described  such  a  festa  as  this  in 
a  little  poem,  part  of  which  I  can  remember : 

"  '  With  music  from  their  windows  booming 
Floats  the  voice  of  masque  and  measure, 
Through  distant  domes  and  marble  piles, 

And  hymns  the  jubilee  of  youth  and  pleasure. 

"  '  Between  the  ripple  dimly  plashing, 

And  the  dark  roof  looming  high, 

Lost  in  the  funereal  sky, 
Like  many -colored  jewels  flashing, 
Small  lamps  in  loops  and  rosaries  of  fire, 
Verdant  and  blood-red,  trembling  and  turning, 
Yellow,  blue,  in  the  deep  water  burning, 
From  dark  till  dawning 
Set  all  aglow  the  wide  concave, 
And  splash  and  stain  the  marble  and  the  nave.' 

'  '  And  high  above  the  hum 

Swelled  the  thunder  and  the  hoot 
Of  the  oboe  and  of  viol,  of  the  hautboy  and  the  flute, 
And  the  roaring  of  the  drum.'  " 


174  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

With  what  zest  the  musicians  sang  that 
night !  All  the  old  favorites—"  Bella  Napoli," 
"  Funicoli,  funicola,''  "  Margherita"  and  "  Santa 
Lucia,"  and  later  Gordigiani's  "  0  Santissima 
Yergine." 

The  barge  made  its  way  ponderously  down 
the  canal.  Beside  the  musicians  they  could  see 
a  gentleman  richly  dressed  in  the  costume  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  He  wore  a  mask,  so 
that  they  could  not  guess  at  his  identity  ;  but 
he  gave  directions  to  the  singers  from  time  to 
time,  and  they  evidently  sang  as  he  requested. 

"  It  is  some  wealthy  young  fellow,"  said  the 
count,  "  bound  on  a  serenading  expedition. 
You  will  see  that  he  has  subsidized  the  captain 
of  the  steamer,  and  he  will  stop  where  this 
young  prince  directs  and  serenade  some  lady." 

The  event  proved  that  the  count  had  guessed 
correctly,  for  as  they  approached  one  of  the 
stately  palaces  the  masked  gentleman  called 
sharply,  "  Scidr  /"  ("  Stop  !")  and  the  steamer 
came  to  a  halt.  The  barge  drifted  forward 
slowly,  and  the  gentleman  snatched  a  guitar 
from  one  01  the  musicians,  and  himself  sang, 
"  jMargherita,"  the  singers  joining  in  the  re- 
frain. The  curtains  of  a  window  opening  upon 


A  FESTA.  175 

the  balcony  fluttered  apart,  a  beautiful  face 
peeped  out,  and  a  hand  threw  a  bunch  of  white 
flowers  far  out  into  the  stream — not  quite  far 
enough,  however,  for  the  masked  singer  to 
catch.  The  flowers  fell  into  the  water  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  barge,  and  all  in  silk, 
and  velvet  as  he  was,  the  serenader  sprang  into 
the  canal  and  waved  the  bouquet  over  his  head 
with  one  hand  while  he  caught  at  the  rope  flung 
him  from  the  barge  with  the  other. 

"Daisies!"  exclaimed  Tib.  "The  lady's 
name  must  be  Margaret.  What  devotion  !" 

Angelo's  lip  curled.  "  What  a  fool !"  he 
said. 

"  Perhaps  so,  to  spoil  his  gay  suit,  unless  the 
sly  rogue  knows  that  the  lady's  admiration  is 
worth  more  to  him  than  the  price  of  his 
doublet.  And  even  if  you  think  the  leap 
theatrical,  the  custom  of  serenading  is  a  pretty 
one.  We  are  too  practical  for  it  in  America, 
and  our  young  men  are  too  afraid  of  appearing 
ridiculous." 

"  It  is  ridiculous,"  said  Angelo.  "  I  cannot 
imagine  myself  being  so  infatuated  as  to  make 
such  a  fool  of  myself.' ' 

"That   is  because,"   said  Tib,    "you  have 


176  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

never  met  any  one  whom  you  loved  more  than 
you  do  your  own  dignity." 

The  count  made  no  reply  ;  and  Tib  asked, 
"  What  is  the  meaning  of  those  cries  which  the 
gondoliers  utter  from  time  to  time  ?  '  Scidr '  is 
one  of  them." 

"  '  Scidr '  means  l  halt,'  "  Angelo  replied  ; 
"  c  stall  ^  '  look  out ;  I  am  coming  ; '  '  premej 
1 1  shall  pass  you.'  : 

"  I  shall  always  remember  this  festa  of  the 
Salute,"  he  said,  after  a  pause.  "I  love  the 
church  ;  it  is  one  of  the  noblest  examples  of 
that  style  which  Ruskin  most  unjustly  despised 
—the  Renaissance.  I  have  a  little  poem  which 
came  to  me  in  a  mysterious  way,  which  likens 
it  to  some  mountain.  Here  it  is  in  my  pocket : 

"  '  Like  some  Greek  temple  pure  and  grave, 
With  pediment  and  architrave — ' 

No,  I  see  the  author  likens  the  mountain  to  a 
Greek  temple  ;  but  some  way  I  remembered  it 
as  the  Salute." 

Tib  and  Winnie  looked  conscious,  and  the 
count  held  the  envelope  on  which  the  poem  had 
been  written  close  to  the  gondola  lamp  and  read 
the  address  on  the  reverse—4'  Winifred  De 


A  FE8TA.  17? 

Witt. "  "  Why,  you  wrote  this !"  he  exclaimed, 
much  surprised. 

"  No,' '  Winnie  replied  ;  "  Tib  scribbled  it  one 
morning  on  that  scrap  of  paper  and  then  lost 
it." 

"  And  you  never  wondered  what  had  become 
of  it?" 

11  Certainly  not,"  Tib  replied.  "  It  was  not 
of  enough  consequence.  I  am  glad,  however, 
if  it  suggested  the  Salute  to  you,  for  it  was  the 
view  from  the  balcony  which  called  up  the 
protest  to  Ruskin's  assertion  that  classical 
architecture  was  not  poetic. " 

The  count  was  silent.  He  did  not  even  ex- 
press -the  admiration  he  felt  for  the  little  poem, 
for  the  new  insight  he  was  constantly  gaining 
into  Tib's  capabilities  was  most  disturbing  to 
his  preconceived  ideas. 

They  had  reached  their  own  landing  ;  but  the 
count  begged  them  to  continue  the  trip,  and 
Winnie  ran  in  to  see  if  Adelaide-  would  join 
them.  She  was  gone  a  long  time,  and  the  con- 
versation drifted  to  their  old  child-life,  and  Count 
Angelo  asked  :  "  May  I  call  you  by  your  beauti- 
ful real  name,  Signorita  Nellie  ?  I  have  main- 
tained my  boyish  prejudice  for  your  family 


178  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

name.  I  confess  I  do  not  like  the  name  Smith, 
though  it  is  a  very  favorite  one  with  your  coun- 
trymen. It  is  so  hard  for  me  to  pronounce, 
and  the  little  short  name  by  which  your  friends 
call  you  I  could  not  presume  to  use,  and,  indeed, 
I  like  it  no  better  ;  but  the  Signorita  Nellie  fits 
you  as  the  word  lily  suits  the  flower.  It  is 
perfect." 

Angelo  was  not  quite  frank  when  he  said  this. 
Even  the  Signorita  Nellie  was  not  quite  the 
name  which  he  would  have  chosen.  The  old 
name  which  he  had  given  her  in  the  presump- 
tion of  his  childish  ignorance — Nellie  Zanelli— 
that  to  his  mind  was  the  only  perfect  name  for 
her ;  but  that,  he  had  told  himself,  he  could 
never  ask  her  to  bear.  The  name  had  been  too 
deeply  disgraced  by  the  crimes  of  his  wicked 
ancestor,  who  had  brought  death  to  Venice  and 
shame  to  his  descendants,  for  him  to  ask  any 
good  woman  to  share  its  heritage.  And  yet 
all  this  seemed  so  far  away  in  the  past.  Must 
generation  after  generation  of  innocent  de- 
scendants suffer  for  his  sin  ?  The  face  beside 
him  was  so  sweet,  so  noble,  the  power  that  com- 
pelled him  so  subtle  and  irresistible,  that  a  wild, 
reckless  determination  filled  his  heart.  He 


A  FESTA.  179 

would  be  uound.  no  longer  by  a  dead  past,  out 
would  put  it  out  of  his  thoughts  and  declare 
himself  a  free  man.  Her  answer  should  decide 
whether  he  would  tell  her  of  his  love. 

Tib  could  not  guess  the  subject  over  which 
he  was  brooding,  but  she  replied  frankly  :  "  We 
are  certainly  too  good  friends  to  be  formal.  I 
have  in  my  trunk  the  little  boribonniere  which 
you  gave  me  so  long  ago.  Do  you  remember^ 
you  erased  the  first  syllable  of  your  name  on. 
the  lid  that  it  might  read  Nelli  ?" 

Tib  did  not  look  up,  and  did  not  see  the  look 
of  despair  .which  settled  on  Angelo's  face. 
Here  was  his  answer  indeed.  His  ancestor's 
crimes  leaped  from  the  past  to  confront  him 
just  as  his  declaration  was  trembling  on  his 
lips. 

"  Nellie  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  no  one  has  tast- 
ed those  bonbons  \  You  are  sure  of  it  1" 

"  Quite  sure.  You  told  me  they  were  prob- 
ably medicine,  and  might  be  poisonous.  You 
were  very  cautious  even  as  a  little  boy." 

"Thank  God!"  he  replied  earnestly.  "I 
will  tell  you—I  have  much  to  tell  you,  Nellie, 
much  that  is  very  vitally  important  to  me — " 

But  Winnie,  who  had  obligingly  delayed  a 


180  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

long  time,  now  brought  down  word  that  neither 
Adelaide  nor  she  cared  for  the  gondola  trip  that 
evening,  and  Tib  accordingly  bade  the  count 
good -night  and  entered  the  house  with  Winnie. 

"  But  when  can  I  tell  you  V '  Angelo  asked 
eagerly. 

"To-morrow  morning  on  the  balcony,"  Tib 
replied  ;  and  Winnie  could  not  forbear  pinch- 
ing her  arm  as  they  mounted  the  stairs  to- 
gether. "  Ah  !  ha  !"  she  teased,  "  there  is 
something  to  be  told,  and  we  make  appoint- 
ments on  the  balcony.  I  must  be  there  to 
chaperone  you,  my  dear." 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  of  your  company,''  Tib 
replied  ;  but  there  was  a  demure  smile  about 
the  corners  of  her  mouth  which  made  Winnie 
sceptical.  "  I  have  just  come  across  a  pretty 
poem  on  serenading  in  Venice,"  she  said,  and 
she  read  it  aloud  to  Tib  as  the  latter  combed 
her  long  hair. 

"  When  along  the  light  ripple  the  far  serenade 
Has  accosted  the  ear  of  each  passionate  maid, 
She  may  open  the  window  that  looks  on  the  stream, 
She  may  smile  on  her  pillow  and  blend  it  in  dream  ; 
Half  in  words,  half  in  music  it  pierces  the  gloom. 
4 1  am  coming,  stali,  but  you  know  not  for  whom, 
Stali,  not  for  whom  1 ' 


A  FESTA.  181 

•'  Now  the  tones  become  cleare'r,  you  hear  more  and  more 
How  the  water  divided  returns  on  the  oar. 
Does  the  prow  of  the  gondola  strike  on  the  stair  ? 
Do  the  voices  and  instruments  pause  and  prepare  ? 
Oh  !  they  faint  on  the  ear  as  the  lamp  on  the  view, 
'  I  am  passing,  preme,  but  I  stay  not  for  you  ! 
Prem'e,  not  for  you  ! ' 

"  Then  return  to  your  couch,  you  who  stifle  a  tear, 
Then  awake  not,  fair  sleeper,  believe  he  is  here  ; 
For  the  young  and  the  loving  no  sorrow  endures, 
If  to-day  be  another's,  to-morrow  is  yours  ! 
May  the  next  time  you  listen  your  fancy  be  true, 
'  I  am  coming,  scidr,  and  for  you  and  to  you, 
ScMr.  aud  to  you  !'  " 

As  Winnie  ceased  reading,  the  sound  of  dis- 
tant music  drifted  in  at  the  open  window.  It 
was  the  barge  returning.  It  would  have  been 
so  easy  for  the  count  to  have  waylaid  it  and 
made  the  musicians  serenade  them.  It  seemed 
to  Winnie  that,  after  what  had  been  said,  if  he 
really  cared  to  give  Tib  pleasure  this  idea  would 
have  occurred  to  him  ;  and  throwing  her  arm 
around  Tib,  she  drew  her  to  the  window.  But 
the  man  at  the  helm  of  the  little  steamer  shout- 
ed "preme  /"  to  the  gondoliers  in  front  of  the 
palace,  and  the  barge,  with  its  gay  lights  and 
music,  had  passed  on. 


CHAPTER  XL 


VIOLANTE — TWO  ON  A  BALCONY. 

ATE  hours  were  the  excep- 
tion for  Tib  and  Winnie, 
and  it  was  not  surpris- 
ing that  they  overslept 
the  next  morning,  and 
.±      were   only  awakened    by 
Adelaide  knocking  at  their 
door  and  demanding  whether 
they  were  going  with  Profes- 
sor Waite  to  paint  Yiolante 
in  her  picturesque  home. 

"There!"  exclaimed  Tib, 
"  I  had  forgotten  all  about 
Violante." 

"  So  had  I,"  yawned  Winnie.     "  Suppose  we 
do  not  go." 

"  I  would  not  miss  her  for  anything,"  Tib  re- 
plied, hurrying  with  her  toilet. 

"  But  how  about  that  appointment  on  the 
balcony  for  a  chat  with  Count  Zanelli  V ' 


VIOLANTE—TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          183 

"  I  am  sorry,  but  he  will  excuse  me.  I  can 
see  him  any  time,  and  I  want  to  read  the  let- 
ters that  Violante  promised  to  show  me.  I  can 
see  Professor  Waite  putting  his  sketching  kit 
into  the  gondola.  I  haven't  even  time  to  write 
a  note  of  explanation.  It  is  too  bad  ;  but  I 
don't  believe  Count  Angelo  will  be  vexed." 

"  No  fear  of  that,  for  it  is  too  late  for  me  to 
think  of  getting  ready  ;  so  I  will  keep  your  ap- 
pointment for  you  and  be  your  letter  of  apol- 
ogy." 

"  How  good  of  you!"  Tib  exclaimed  grate- 
fully ;  and,  with  a  parting  kiss,  she  was 
gone. 

"  I  have  missed  a  chance  at  painting  the  best 
model  in  Venice,' '  Winnie  grumbled  to  herself ; 
and  indeed  it  was  a  privilege  to  paint  from 
Violante. 

Tib  had  caught  sight  of  her  first  on  her  way 
to  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  Formosa,  whither 
she  was  going  to  see  Palma  Vecchio's  master- 
piece, the  noble  "  St.  Barbara."  Her  atten- 
tion was  drawn  to  the  girl  simply  as  a  shapely 
figure,  a  black  shawl  draping  the  head  and 
shoulders  and  silhouetting  the  dignified  car- 
riage against  the  sunny  walls  as  she  flitted 


184  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

along  in  front  of  them  like  a  guiding  will-o'- 
the-wisp. 

"  How  well  she  composes !"  Winnie  had  said. 
"  I  wish  she  would  stand  still  and  let  me  sketch 
her,  leaning  over  the  parapet  of  that  bridge,  or 
simply  making  the  blackest  black  in  any  one 
of  those  shifting  street  views." 

"  I  wonder  whether  her  face  is  as  interesting 
as  her  figure, "  Tib  queried  ;  but  she  had  no  op- 
portunity of  judging,  for  the  girl  never  looked 
back,  and  kept  ahead  of  them  all  the  way,  glid- 
ing into  the  church  and  losing  herself  in  its 
gloom. 

Once  within,  they  speedily  forgot  her  in  their 
admiration  of  the  "St.  Barbara,"  the  central 
figure  of  a  large  picture  painted  as  a  votive 
offering  for  the  bombardieri  or  artillerists. 
Santa  Barbara,  their  guide-book  told  them, 
was  the  patroness  of  soldiers,  who  came  here 
to  worship  at  her  shrine.  It  was  easy  to  see 
how  St.  Sebastian,  who  was  in  the  same  pic- 
ture, and  looked  as  though  he  had  served  as  a 
target  for  a  corps  of  crack  arquebusiers,  might 
have  been  adopted  as  their  patron  ;  but  why  the 
gentle  Barbara  should  have  been  represented 
with  cannon  at  her  feet,  a  bow  in  hand,  and  a 


VIOLANTE—TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          185 

4 

spiky  iron  crown  on  her  fair  head  was  quite 
incomprehensible.  The  legend  of  her  life  ex- 
plained her  attribute — a  tower  with  three  win- 
dows. She  was  the  daughter  of  Diascorus,  of 
Heliopolis,  who  shut  her  up  in  a  tower  so  that 
she  should  not  attract  suitors  by  her  beauty. 
She  was  converted  by  a  disciple  of  Origen,  sent 
to  her  as  a  physician.  The  fact  of  her  conver- 
sion to  Christianity  became  known  to  her  father 
when  some  repairs  were  being  made  in  her 
tower,  Santa  Barbara  Wishing  three  windows, 
"as  a  symbol  of  the  Trinity,"  to  be  inserted 
instead  of  two. 

The  girls  read  the  extracts  from  various 
authors  in  praise  of  this  picture  and  agreed 
with  them  all. 

"  An  almost  unique  presentation  of  a  hero- 
woman,  standing  in  calm  preparation  for  mar- 
tyrdom, with  the  expression  of  a  mind  filled 
with  serious  conviction,"  wrote  George  Eliot. 
"  Her  shape  is  grandiose  and  queenly ;  her 
beauty  healthy,  serene,  and  plump.  The 
glance,  the  massive  hair,  the  full  neck  and 
throat  are  all  regal ;  her  hands  are  those  of  a 
queen,"  say  Crowe  and  Cavalcascelle.  Mrs. 
Jameson  gives  one  of  the  best  descriptions  : 


186  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  She  wears  a  tunic  or  robe  of  a  rich  warm 
brown,  with  a  mantle  of  crimson  ;  and  a  white 
veil  is  twisted  in  her  diadem  among  the  tresses 
of  her  pale  golden  hair.  I  never  saw  a  com- 
bination of  color  at  once  so  soft,  so  sober,  and 
so  splendid.  Cannon  are  at  her  feet,  and  her 
tower  is  seen  behind.  Beneath,  in  front  of  the 
altar,  is  a  marble  bas-relief  of  her  martyrdom  ; 
she  lies  headless  on  the  ground,  and  fire  from 
heaven  destroys  the  executioners." 

Winnie  felt  that  Yriarte  gave  the  best  sum- 
ming up  of  all  when  he  wrote  :  "  She  has  the 
noble  serenity  of  a  saint  who  is  yet  a  woman." 

"  We  should  have  come  here  at  the  fete  of 
this  church  in  February, "  whispered  Winnie ; 
1 '  it  is  connected  with  that  pretty  legend  of  the 
*  Brides  of  Venice,'  "  and  she  pointed  to  the  his- 
torical information  in  their  guide-book  that 
"  on  the  21st  of  February,  944,  a  number  of 
Venetian  maidens  who  had  gone  to  be  married 
at  St.  Pietro,  in  Castello,  taking  with  them 
their  dowries,  were  carried  off  by  a  sudden  in- 
road of  pirates.  They  were  pursued  and  van- 
quished by  the  Venetians,  owing  to  the  brave 
cabinet-makers  of  Santa  Maria  Formosa,  who 
asked  as  their  sole  reward  that  the  doge  should 


VIOLANTE-TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          187 

visit  their  church  on  that  anniversary  every 
year.  '  But  if  it  rains  ? '  said  the  doge.  '  We 
will  give  you  hats  to  cover  you. '  '  But  if  I  am 
thirsty  ? '  '  We  will  give  you  to  drink. '  Hence 
dated  the  Festa  delle  Marie,  which  was  always 
held  in  this  church  on  February  2d.  First 
twelve  and  afterward  three  poor  maidens  were 
always  dowered  here  by  the  city  on  that  day, 
when  the  doge  always  came  in  state  to  the 
church  and  received  from  the  priests  two  hats 
of  gilt  straw,  two  flasks  of  malvasia,  and  two 
oranges. " 

Leaving  the  church,  the  girls  paused  at  the 
left  of  its  west  front  to  admire  a  beautiful 
Gothic  canopy  of  the  fourteenth  century  over 
the  entrance  to  a  bridge  called  the  Ponte  del 
Paradiso,  and  then  directed  Tribolo  to  take 
them  home,  for  Professor  Waite  had  invited 
them  to  paint  in  his  studio  from  one  of  the 
handsomest  of  Venetian  models  who  was  to 
pose  for  him.  As  Tribolo  moored  their  gondola 
at  the  palace  door,  they  saw  passing  up  the 
staircase  the  same  black- draped  figure  which 
had  preceded  them  on  their  way  to  the  church  5 
and  when  they  entered  the  studio  she  had 
thrown  back  her  shawl  and  was  taking  her  place 


188  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

on  the  model's  stand.  Tib  uttered  an  exclama- 
tion of  surprise. 

"  Why,  it  is  St.  Barbara  herself  !" 

The  girl  smiled,  evidently  flattered. 

"You  see  the  resemblance  then?"  said  the 
professor.  "  I  think  it  rather  striking  myself, 
and  am  making  a  study  of  her  in  the  pose  of 
the  Barbara.  Other  artists  have  done  so  before 
me— for  Violante  draws  the  attention  of  her 
patrons  to  the  resemblance  if  they  do  not  dis- 
cover it  for  themselves.  She  comes  of  a  long 
line  of  artists'  models,  and  claims  that  the 
model  that  sat  for  Pal  ma  Vecchio's  masterpiece 
was  her  ancestress.  It  may  be  so.  .There  is  no 
harm  in  believing  it." 

The  girl's  quick  ear  had  caught  the  word 
Palma  Yecchio,  and  she  smiled  again  and  said 
in  Italian  :  "  Yiolante,  daughter  of  Palma,  my 
many-times  great-grandmother. " 

"What!  daughter  as  well  as  *nodel  ?"  Tib 
asked. 

The  girl  nodded  confidently.  "  Palma  Vec- 
chic-'s  daughter  Violante  was  very  beautiful  ; 
her  father  painted  her ;  Giorgione,  Titian,  all 
the  great  artists  of  that  time  painted  her,  and 
whoever  painted  her  loved  her ;  but  she  loved 


VIOLANTE—TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          189 

only  Giorgione,  and  she  killed  him,  for  she  had 
the  plague  and  he  kissed  her,  and  of  that  kiss 
he  died.1' 

"  There  is  a  tradition  to  that  effect,"  Profes- 
sor Waite  assented  ;  "  but  it  is  almost  too  ro- 
mantic to  be  true." 

11  It  was  sad  and  yet  sweet  that  the  two  lovers 
should  die  together,"  Tib  said. 

"But  they  did  not  die  at  the  same  time," 
the  girl  replied.  "  Violante  recovered ;  she 
was  cured  by  a  magician — that  is,  by  a  Vene- 
tian physician  who  was  burned  as  a  wizard — for 
it  was  believed  that  he  cured  his  patients  by 
the  black  art  at  the  expense  of  their  souls.  A 
friar  who  had  taken  Giorgione' s  dying  confes- 
sion had  sprinkled  him  with  holy  water,  and 
so  his  soul  was  safe  ;  and  this  man,  while  pre' 
tending  to  be  engaged  in  prayer,  watched  the 
physician,  and  was  convinced,  from  his  strange 
proceedings,  that  he  meant  harm  and  not  good 
to  his  patient." 

"  That  illustrious  Violante  is  most  famous," 
said  the  professor,  "  not  because  she  may  have 
been  Palma's  daughter  or  Giorgione's  love, 
which  is  hardly  possible,  but  because  Titian 
painted  her.  There  are  no  such  superb  physi- 


190  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE, 

cal  types  among  the  Venetian  ladies  of  to- 
day ;  perhaps  there  were  few  at  that  time  ;  at 
any  rate,  Titian  was  fortunate  to  have  found 
her,  and  she  to  have  been  found  by  Titian." 

Yiolante  seemed  a  little  piqued  that  Profes- 
sor Waite  should  have  doubted  any  part  of  her 
family  history.  "  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  Titian 
painted  her  oftenest,  for  he  lived  longest.  We 
have  a  sketch  he  gave  her,  and  letters — many 
letters — from  all  of  those  artists.  I  am  not 
lying  ;  the  young  ladies  can  see  for  themselves 
— letters  from  Titian  and  two  very  long  letters 
from  Titian's  son  Orazio.  We  have  been  offered 
a  great  deal  of  money  for  them  ;  but  we  know 
better  than  to  sell  them.  The  young  ladies  can 
see  them,  however,  if  they  will  come  to  my 
poor  house." 

"Your  house  is  not  a  poor  one,"  Professor 
Waite  replied.  "  I  know  it  very  well ;  its  court 
is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  places  for  sketch- 
ing in  Venice.  We  will  all  descend  upon  you 
next  Wednesday." 

And  so  the  appointment  was  made  which  Tib 
was  so  anxious  to  keep,  and  Winnie  was  left 
for  the  interview  with  Count  Angelo.  "Just 
as  if,"  Winnie  said  to  herself,  rather  crossly, 


VIOLANTE—TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          191 

"it  was  of  no  more  consequence  and  one 
-requiring  less  personal  attention  than  an  ap- 
pointment with  a  dressmaker." 

Winnie  was  vexed  with  Tib's  apparent  in- 
difference, and  because,  in  all  the  intercourse 
between  her  and  Angelo,  intimate  as  it  had  be- 
come, there  was  no  hint  of  love-making.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  they  were  admirably  fitted 
for  one  another ;  and  she  contrived  many  little 
plots  to  throw  them  together,  giving  them  beau- 
tiful opportunities  for  uninterrupted  conversa- 
tion ;  and  she  raged  inwardly  when  she  ascer- 
tained how  poorly  they  were  improved. 

"Was  anything  so  maddening?"  she  com- 
plained to  Adelaide  one  afternoon.  "  Here  I 
made  up  a  fictitious  headache  and  denied  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  a  trip  to  San  Giorgio  yes- 
terday on  purpose  that  the  count  should  have 
Tib  all  to  himself,  and  what  did  that  provoking 
girl  do  3  Simply  insisted  that  his  mother  should 
go  with  them." 

"Just  like  her,"  Adelaide  replied;  "  and 
last  Thursday,  when  I  really  had  some  hopes — 
for  Tib  was  sitting  quite  alone  in  the  tented 
divan  and  the  count  made  his  way  straight  to 
her  the  moment  he  entered  the  room — you 


192  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

should  have  seen  how  I  labored  to  keep  people 
away  from  them.  I  even  entertained  John  Nash 
for  an  hour,  for  the  good,  stupid  fellow  was 
possessed  to  join  them,  and  I  was  simply  obliged 
to  order  Professor  Waite  to  take  the  contessa 
out  upon  the  balcony,  for  each  was  persistently 
determined  to  interrupt  the  tete-a-tete.  It  is  too 
vexatious.  The  recipe  for  a  happy  marriage 
used  to  be  :  'A  young  woman.  A  young  man. 
Congenial  tastes.  Opportunity.'  Now,  here 
are  all  the  ingredients  ;  why  don't  they  fall  in 
love  in  the  good  old-fashioned  way  ?" 

"  They  are  in  love,"  Winnie  replied,  "  only 
the  blessed  innocents  haven't  found  it  out. 
They  have  too  many  congenial  tastes,  and  are 
so  taken  up  with  discussing  them  and  discover- 
ing new  ones  that  they  haven't  time  for  any- 
thing else.  Somebody  ought  to  enlighten  them 
before  those  golden  hours  of  opportunity  are 
gone." 

It  was  with  this  benevolent  intention  that 
Winnie  met  Angelo  on  the  balcony  that  morn- 
ing. She  was  surprised  to  see  that  he  looked 
haggard  and  unhappy,  for  he  had  passed  a 
sleepless  night,  vainly  puzzling  over  the  old 
papers  regarding  his  ancestor's  trial. 


VIOLANTE—TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          193 

When  Tib  had  referred  to  the  bonbonniere,  the 
conviction  had  struck  him  like  a  blow  that  he 
had  been  letting  himself  drift  all  these  pleasant 
days  as  though  he  had  a  right  to  win  her 
friendship,  and  had  recklessly  disregarded  the 
chains  by  which  he  was  held.  It  was  time  for 
him  to  tear  himself  away  while  he  had  any  will 
power  left.  To  strengthen  his  resolve,  on  bid- 
ding the  girls  good-night  he  went  at  once  to  the 
alchemist's  laboratory  and  plunged  into  a  study 
of  the  record  of  his  trial.  If  Giovanni  Zanelli 
had  really  committed  the  crime  for  which  he 
was  convicted,  Angelo  felt  that  his  punishment 
was  just.  He  had  never  studied  the  evidence 
closely,  fearing  that  the  slight  hope  which  he 
still  cherished  of  his  ancestor's  innocence  might 
be  crushed  forever  ;  but  now  he  determined  to 
face  the  truth. 

Only  one  witness  had  appeared  in  behalf  of 
the  accused,  Orazio  Vecelli,  the  son  of  Titian, 
the  great  painter.  Orazio  had  declared  at  the 
peril  of  his  life  that  he  had  studied  medicine 
with  Dr.  Zanelli,  and  had  found  him  a  most 
humane  and  honorable  man,  devoted  to  the 
saving  of  life,  and  that  it  was  impossible  that 
he  could  have  committed  any  of  the  crimes 


194  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

with  which  he  was  charged.  He  asserted  that 
the  stranger  who  had  come  from  Constantino- 
ple, and  was  supposed  to  be  the  Sultan's  emis- 
sary, was  a  Greek  physician  named  Chryso- 
larus,  who  had  come  to  learn  Dr.  Zanelli's  se- 
cret of  treating  the  plague,  and  having  learned 
it  had  fled  away  in  fear  of  his  life  on  the  arrest 
of  his  master.  That  he,  Orazio,  being  too 
young  a  pupil,  had  not  learned  this  secret ;  but 
if  Chrysolarus  could  be  found  he  could  dis- 
close it. 

Orazio's  testimony,  though  well  meaning, 
really  proved  nothing  except  that  Dr.  Zanelli 
was  a  man  to  command  the  love  and  respect  of 
those  who  knew  him.  Another  prominent 
name  had  figured  in  the  trial  —that  of  Jacopo 
Sansovino,  the  architect.  He  stood  boldly  forth 
as  the  friend  of  the  accused,  and  labored  with 
all  his  might,  though  fruitlessly,  to  obtain  an 
acquittal.  Angelo  turned  hopelessly  from  this 
study.  If  these  dear  friends  had  been  unable 
to  prove  the  innocence  of  Dr.  Zanelli,  how 
could  he,  at  this  distance  of  time,  hope  to 
discover  any  new  light  ?  The  fact  remained 
that  he  had  been  tried  and  found  guilty,  and 
that  in  all  these  years  nothing  had  been  dis- 


VIOL  ANTE -TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          195 

covered  to  prove  that  his  sentence  had  not  been 
just. 

Angelo  therefore  kept  his  appointment  with 
Tib  weighed  down  by  a  feeling  of  profound  de- 
spair. When  Winnie  met  him  and  explained 
that  she  was  the  bearer  of  her  friend's  apologies 
he  was  really  grateful. 

"  It  does  not  matter  at  all,"  he  said  hastily — 
"  that  is,  you  will  do  quite  as  well.  Did  the 
Signorita  Nellie  send  me  a  bonbonniere  by 
you  3" 

"  No,"  Winnie  replied,  much  surprised  by 
his  evident  relief.  "  What  bonbonniere  f" 

"It  is  not  of  the  slightest  consequence — I 
mean  that  is  the  only  thing  of  any  consequence. 
I  hope  the  Signorita  Nellie  will  return  me  the 
bonbonniere.  I  have  particular  reasons  for 
wanting  it." 

"  And  is  this  all  you  wished  to  say  to  Tib  at 
this  time  3" 

"  Yes,  it  is  all  I  could  have  said  to  her  ;  but 
I  can  a'sk  your  advice.  I  can  tell  you  what  I 
am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  her.  I  love  the  Sig- 
norita Nellie." 

"  Indeed !  And  why,  may  I  ask,  can  you 
not  tell  her  so  ?" 


196       WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

11  Because  with  that  declaration  I  cannot  ask 
her  to  be  my  wife." 

Winnie  drew  herself  up  proudly.  "Then 
you  are  quite  right  in  not  telling  her  that  you 
love  her.  But  I  do  not  understand  why  you 
cannot  ask  her  to  marry  you. " 

"  No,  you  cannot  understand ;  and  I  am 
ashamed  to  tell  you.  It  is  a  question  of  ances- 
try ;  it  is  because  I  am  a  Zanelli." 

Winnie's  eyes  flashed  fire.  She  entirely  mis- 
understood the  count.  She  thought  he  meant 
to  imply  that  because  he  was  of  noble  descent 
he  could  not  marry  a  girl  without  a  title.  "  I 
always  did  despise  dukes  and  earls,  counts 
and  barons,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  Nobility  ! 
pooh  !  there  is  nothing  noble  about  them.  I 
wouldn't  change  my  Van's  little  finger  for  the 
whole  crew  ;  but  I  did  think  that  Angelo  Za- 
nelli was  made  of  better  stuff." 

"  I  do  not  share  your  point  of  view,  Count 
Zanelli,"  she  replied  with  fine  scorn.  "  I  do 
not  see  any  difference  in  your  ancestry.  So  far 
as  I  know  it,  you  are  both  descended  from  hon- 
orable people  ;  and  even  if  you  were  not,  I  do 
not  see  that  your  dead-and-gone  ancestors,  with 
all  their  nobility  and  grandeur,  all  their  pride 


VIOLANTE-TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          197 

and  wealth,  all  of  their  honors  and  distinctions, 
or  even  their  virtues  or  their  sins,  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  you  two  who  are  living  in  the 
actual  present.  To  me  ancestry  is  no  more  than 
a  tapestry  background,  just  as  shadowy  and 
unreal.  The  vital  question  is,  what  you  are 
personally,  and  no  nobility  conferred  in  past 
ages  can  make  you  noble,  Count  Angelo,  if  you 
yourself  are  little  and  base,  just  as  you  are  not 
responsible  for  the  sins  of  any  of  those  illus- 
trious signors." 

Winnie  had  expected  that  the  count  would  be 
crushed  by  this  magnificent  speech,  and  she 
was  much  surprised  when  he  seized  her  hand, 
exclaiming  :  "  Do  you  think  so  ?  do  you  really 
think  so  ?  Would  the  Signorita  Nellie  have 
spoken  as  you  have  done  2" 

"  I  am  sure  that  the  fact  that  you  are  the 
Count  Zanelli  has  never  had  the  slightest  bear- 
ing on  her  opinion  of  you." 

"  I  thank  you  !  I  thank  you  with  all  my 
heart !  You  do  not  know  what  a  weight  you 
have  taken  from  my  mind." 

Winnie  was  more  and  more  mytiified  ;  it 
seemed  to  her  that  Count  Angelo  was  going 
insane. 


198  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  I  confess  I  do  not  understand  you  at  all," 
she  said  coldly. 

"  No,"  he  replied  more  calmly,  "  you  do  not 
understand  the  situation  ;  and  perhaps  when 
you  do  you  will  not  speak  as  you  have  done. 
My  inheritance  from  my  ancestors  is  one  of  dis- 
grace. Gladly  would  I  exchange  my  name  and 
title  for  that  of  the  meanest  peasant  of  honest 
lineage.  I  am  descended  from  a  man  who  was 
executed  here  in  Venice  for  his  crimes." 

Winnie  had  not  suspected  anything  of  this 
kind,  and  the  shock  staggered  her.  "  Was  he 
really  a  criminal  f  she  asked. 

"Ah!  that  I  do  not  know.  It  seems  to  me 
that  it  was  not  proved." 

"  Then,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  leave  no  stone 
unturned  to  clear  his  memory." 

11  Then  you  think  that  the  disgrace  of  being 
executed  is  nothing  if  the  sentence  were  un- 
just?" 

"  How  can  any  one  think  otherwise  ?  The 
disgrace  lies  in  the  crime,  not  in  the  punish- 
ment." 

u  And  if  I  could  prove  that  my  ancestor  were 
really  innocent,  could  I  go  to  the  Signorita 
Nellie  and  ask  her  to  be  the  wife  of  a  man  de- 


7IOLANTE—TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          199 

scended  from  one  who  died  under  the  hand  of 
the  executioner,  and  whose  body  was  burned 
by  the  Church  2" 

"  And  even  if  you  cannot  prove  him  inno- 
cent," Winnie  cried,  "  go  just  the  same.  I  do 
not  take  back  a  word  I  have  said.  What  does 
his  guilt  matter  to  you  ?" 

"  Much, "  Angel o  replied,  shaking  his  head 
sadly.  "  If  I  were  the  descendant  of  a  leper  I 
would  not  be  free  to  marry.  I  would  fear  that 
the  terrible  disease  would  break  out  at  any 
time.  If  I  am  of  a  race  morally  diseased,  must 
I  not  fear  that  I  too  have  that  moral  taint  ?" 

"  No,"  Winnie  replied  ;  "  I  do  not  believe  in 
heredity  to  such  an  extent  as  that.  Taints  die 
out- in  time,  just  as  infections  cannot  last  for- 
ever. It  is  as  little  likely  that  you  could  feel 
an  impulse  to  crime  as  that  the  plague  will  re- 
visit Venice  in  these  modern  times,  when  we 
understand  so  much  better  the  laws  of  life. 
But,  mind  you,  what  I  have  said  in  the  way  of 
encouragement  is  only  my  view  of  the  case  so 
far  as  you  personally  are  concerned.  I  know 
nothing  whatever  of  Tib's  feelings  in  the  matter ; 
and  if  I  knew,  should  not  tell  you." 

"  And  I  shall  never  ask  you,"  Angelo  re- 


200  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

plied  ;  "  and  I  shall  ask  her  myself  just  as  soon 
as  I  can  prove  that  the  name  which  I  shall  offer 
her  is  an  honorable  one  ;  and  meantime  I  trust 
you  to  keep  my  secret." 

Winnie  nodded  approvingly.  "  Count  An- 
gelo,  you  are  more  really  noble  than  I  thought. 
I  shall  respect  your  confidence  sacredly,  and 
meantime  I  wish  you  Godspeed  in  your  quest." 

When  Tib  returned  at  noon  she  found  Win- 
nie alone  upon  the  balcony.  "  What  did  Count 
Angel o  wish?"  she  asked.  "Was  he  vexed 
because  I  did  not  keep  my  promise  ?' ' 

"  Not  at  all ;  he  said  it  was  of  no  conse- 
quence whatever  ;  he  merely  wished  to  ask 
you  for  a  certain  boribonniere." 

A  shade  of  annoyance  crossed  Tib's  face.  "  I 
wonder  why  he  wishes  me  to  return  it.  He 
gave  it  to  me  when  we  were  children.  Did  he 
'rive  any  reason  why  he  wanted  it  back  ?" 

"  None  whatever." 

"  Well,  he  shall  have  it ;  and  I  hope,  Win- 
nie, that  this  little  incident  relieves  your  mind 
of  any  suspicion  that  Count  Angelo  cares  for 
me  in  the  slightest  degree,  or  that  there  ever 
could  be  any  romance  between  us." 

Winnie  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 


VIOL  ANTE—  TWO  ON  A  BALCONY.          201 

"  Are  you  convinced  ?    Answer  me  !" 

"  Convinced  !    Oh,  perfectly." 

"  Then  stop  smiling  in  that  foolish  way,  and 
never  allude  to  the  subject  again.  I  have  had 
such  an  interesting  day.  You  really  have 
missed  a  great  deal.  There  is  the  sketch  that  I 
made  of  Violante.  She  is  a  lace-maker,  and 
here  is  a  pair  of  cuffs  of  real  Venetian  point 
which  I  have  brought  you." 

"  You  extravagant  girl !  Why,  they  match 
the  collar  I  bought  at  Burano." 

"  Yes  ;  that  is  why  1  was  tempted  ;  and  do 
you  know  why  they  match  it  ?  Violante  never 
took  her  eyes  off  of  that  collar  when  she  was  pos- 
ing here  the  other  day.  I  wondered  why  she 
stared  at  you  in  that  fascinated  way.  It  was 
the  pattern,  not  your  face,  that  attracted  her, 
and  she  made  the  cuffs  from  memory." 

"  And  the  letters  2" 

"  The  letters  were  in  old  Italian,  which  I 
could  not  read  very  well ;  but  I  believe  they 
are  genuine.  There  is  one  from  the  architect 
Sansovino  and  two  long  ones  from  Titian's 
son  Orazio,  and  what  is  rather  singular  is  that 
in  each  the  name  Zanelli  appeared.  I  wish  I 
knew  what  Zanelli  it  was. " 


CHAPTER  XII. 


A  RAY   OF  LIGHT — THE   RENAISSANCE   PALACES. 

HOUGH  Angelo  had 
spoken  of  the  possibil- 
ity of  proving  the  inno- 
cence of  his  ancestor, 
he  could  see  no  way  of 
doing  so.  He  consult- 
ed one  of  the  most  ex- 
pert lawyers  in  Venice, 
who  agreed  to  look  into 
the  matter  thoroughly, 
and  to  advise  him  if 
there  was  anything 

which  he  could  do.  While  he  waited  for  the 
opinion  of  this  man,  Angelo  felt  that  he  must 
occupy  himself  intensely  or  that  he  would  go 
mad  ;  and  he  applied  himself  more  unremitting- 
ly than  ever  to  his  work  on  Venice.  Only  a 
few  chapters  remained  to  be  written,  and  these 
were  to  be  devoted  to  the  last  great  period  of 


A  RAT  OF  LIGHT.  203 

Venetian  architecture,  that  of  the  Renaissance. 
He  buried  himself  in  his  study  and  plunged 
into  his  work. 

As  he  arranged  the  illustrations  for  the  first 
part  of  the  book,  their  merit  grew  upon  him— 
not  the  technical  excellence  alone — the  neat- 
ness of  the  drawing,  the  exactness  of  measure- 
ment and  proportions,  betraying  an  educated 
eye,  while  the  perfection  of  line  showed  a  cer- 
tainty of  touch  and  facility  of  practice,  and 
also  an  artistic  freedom  in  the  handling,  a  per- 
ception in  the  choice  of  subject,  and  a  poetic 
treatment,  the  gloomy  history  of  certain  build- 
ings being  suggested  by  choice  of  lighting,  so 
as  to  bring  out  their  salient  characteristics. 
The  artist  had  silhouetted  massive  forms  darkly 
against  moonlit  skies,  and  had  given  a  touch  of 
tenderness  in  clinging  vines  to  decayed  gran- 
deur, thus  bringing  out  just  the  important 
points  and  artfully  suppressing  the  inconse- 
quent and  the  incongruous. 

"  John  Nash  has  more  than  the  mere  skill  of 
a  good  draughtsman,"  he  said  to  himself  ;  "  he 
is  a  poet  and  a  true  artist.  It  is  time  that  his 
incognito  should  be  given  up.' '  And  the  count 
wrote  as  follows : 


204  WITCH  WINNIE  IN   VENICE. 

"  MY  DEAR  FRIEND  :  I  have  respected  your 
desire  to  remain  unknown,  not  only  refraining 
from  endeavoring  to  penetrate  the  flimsy  dis- 
guise which  you  have  thrown  over  your  work, 
but  long  after  you  betrayed  your  secret  I  have 
hidden  from  you  the  fact  that  I  knew  the  iden- 
tity of  the  artist  who  furnished  me  with  siich 
beautiful  illustrations.  Bat  the  time  has  come 
on  both  sides  for  frank  confession.  Our  busi- 
ness relations  demand  this.  Our  publisher  in- 
sists that  you  shall  have  the  credit  for  your 
work,  and  that  the  book  shall  have  the  prestige 
of  your  name. 

"Let  us,  then,  end  this  pretence  of  an  incog- 
nito. The  last  chapters  can  be  completed  much 
more  successfully  with  mutual  help.  Let  us 
consult  each  other,  visit  places  of  interest  to- 
gether, and  advise  each  other  in  regard  to  the 
incidents  and  places  which  it  is  best  to  treat. 
Meet  me,  therefore,  at  Professor  Waiters  studio 
to-morrow.  Until  then  and  always  I  remain, 
with  the  highest  admiration  for  your  talent, 
your  obliged  friend  and  servitor, 

"ANGELO  ZAISTELLI." 
The  count  sealed  this  letter  and  sent  it  di- 


A  BAT  OF  LIGHT.  205 

rectly  to  John  Nash,  who  was  stupefied  with 
surprise,  but  carried  it  to  Professor  Waite  for 
explanation.  The  professor  laughed  heartily 
and  divulged  the  secret.  ' '  The  count  is  right, ' ' 
he  said  ;  "  the  joke  has  been  carried  far  enough. 
It  is  time  for  an  explanation  all  around.  As 
you  see,  this  letter  begins  simply  '  My  dear 
friend.'  I  will  enclose  it  in  a  new  envelope  ad- 
dressed to  Miss.  Smith,  and  she  can  imagine 
that  Zanelli  has  guessed  th.6  truth,  and  we  will 
enjoy  the  denouement." 

Tib  did  so  understand  the  letter,  and  kept  the 
appointment.  As  the  count  entered  the  room 
he  bowed  to  her  with  grave  courtesy.  "  I  ex- 
pected to  find  our  friend  John  Nash  here,"  he 
said  as  he  looked  about  the  room. 

"  Then  have  I  mistaken  your  appointment  ?" 
Tib  asked,  unfolding  his  letter,  which  the  count 
recognized  at  once,  while  an  expression  of  blank 
astonishment  swept  over  his  face. 

"Did  you? — are  you? — no,  it  cannot  be," 
he  exclaimed,  turning  helplessly  to  Professor 
Waite,  who  replied : 

"  Acknowledge  the  joke,  Count  Zanelli. 
Miss  Smith  is  the  artist  of  the  pen-and-ink 
drawings  which  you  have  admired  so  heartily." 


206  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Angelo  stammered  his  apologies,  which  Tib 
accepted  graciously,  though  Winnie  mischiev- 
ously assured  him  that  it  would  be  long  before 
he  heard  the  last  of  his  mistake.  Angelo  hardly 
heard  Winnie's  jibes.  He  had  not  intended  to 
allow  himself  the  privilege  of  Tib's  sweet  com- 
panionship until  he  could  ask  for  a  still  higher 
boon  ;  but  tricky  Fate  had  forced  it  upon  him, 
and  he  could  but  accept  it.  His  gondola  was 
waiting  at  the  door  for  an  excursion  to  which 
he  had  intended  to  invite  John  Nash.  He  had 
brought  a  number  of  books  which  he  intended 
to  look  over  with  him,  and  there  was  nothing 
for  him  to  do  but  to  invite  Tib's  attention  to 
them. 

"  I  might  have  guessed,"  he  said,  "  as  they 
seated  themselves  at  the  large  table,  "  that  the 
writer  of  the  lines  on  Renaissance  architecture 
which  I  liked  so  much  knew  something  of  it 
practically." 

"  Very  little,"  Tib  replied.  "  I  have  read 
Ruskin  of  course,  and  I  could  but  feel  that  his 
scorn  of  the  style  was  unjust.  And  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me  why  he  was  so  prejudiced.'' 

"  Ruskin's  aversion  to*  Renaissance  architec- 
ture," the  count  explained,  "was  based  on 


A  EAT  OF  LIGHT.  207 

what  that  architecture  expresses,  and  the  two 
elements  which  he  feels  most  keenly  in  its  spirit 
are  Pride  and  Infidelity.  It  is  the  '  architec- 
ture which  most  nearly  becomes  a  science, '  and 
Ruskin  feels  that  in  doing  so  it  becomes  less 
of  an  art.  He  asserts  too  broadly  that  the 
one  main  purpose  of  the  Renaissance  artists 
was  to  show  how  much  they  knew.  *  All  other 
architectures, '  he  declares,  '  have  something  in 
them  that  common  men  can  enjoy— quaint 
fancy,  rich  ornament,  bright  color,  something 
that  shows  a  sympathy  with  men  of  ordinary 
minds  and  hearts.  But  the  Renaissance  is 
rigid,  cold,  inhuman.  Whatever  excellence  it 
has  is  refined,  high  trained,  and  deeply  erudite 
— a  kind  which  the  architect  well  knows  no 
common  mind  can  taste.'  He  proclaims,  '  You 
cannot  feel  my  work  unless  you  study  Vitru- 
vius.  I  am  a  learned  man.  All  the  pleasure 
you  can  have  in  anything  I  do  is  in  its  rigid 
formalism,  its  perfect  finish,  its  cold  tranquil- 
lity. I  do  not  work  for  the  vulgar,  only  for  the 
men  of  the  Academy  and  the  court. ' 

"  The  pride  which  the  Renaissance  architec- 
ture displayed,  according  to  our  critic,  was  not 
alone  the  pride  of  the  architect  in  his  science, 


208  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

but  a  baser  kind  of  pride  as  well,  that  of 
state,  for  the  architect  ministered  to  the  pride 
of  his  patron.  Renaissance  architecture  he 
feels  was  full  of  insult  to  the  poor  in  its  every 
line.  '  It  would  not  be  built  of  the  materials  at 
the  poor  man's  hand  ;  it  would  not  roof  itself 
with  thatch  or  shingle  and  black  oak  beams  ; 
it  would  not  wall  itself  with  rough  stone  or 
brick  ;  it  would  not  pierce  itself  with  small 
windows  wherever  they  were  needed  ;  it  \vould 
not  niche  itself  wherever  there  was  room  for  it 
in  the  street  corners.  It  would  be  of  hewn 
stone  ;  it  would  have  its  windows,  and  its  doors, 
and  its  stairs,  and  its  pillars  in  lordly  order  and 
of  stately  size  ;  it  would  have  its  wings,  and  its 
corridors,  and  its  halls,  and  its  gardens"  as  if  all 
the  earth  were  its  own.  But  it  understood  the 
Jluxury  of  the  body :  the  terraced  and  scented 
and  grottoed  garden,  with  its  trickling  foun- 
tains and  slumbrous  shades  ;  the  spacious  hall 
and  lengthened  corridor  for  the  summer  heat ; 
the  well-closed  windows  and  perfect  fittings 
and  furniture  for  defence  against  the  cold  ;  and 
the  soft  picture  and  frescoed  wall  and  roof.' 
But  this  modern  luxury  or  comfort  Ruskin 
contemns  in  comparison  with  the  '  twisted 


A  RAT  OF  LIGHT.  209 

traceries,  and  deep-wrought  foliage,  and  burn- 
ing (stained  glass)  casements  of  Gothic  windows, 
when  the  tapestries  swayed  in  the  wind  in  the 
baron's  hall.' ' 

"  All  that  sounds  very  romantic,"  Tib  com- 
mented, "  but  it  does  not  keep  pace  with  the 
march  of  civilization,  which  demands' comfort, 
and  sanitation,  and  elegance  rather  than  bar- 
baric picturesqueness. " 

"You  have  the  idea  exactly,"  Angelo  re- 
plied; "and  Kuskin  could  not  deny  this,  or 
refuse  the  tribute  of  a  certain  appreciation  of 
the  Renaissance  style.  Listen  to  what  he  wrote 
of  the  Grimani  palace  : 

"  *  Of  all  the  buildings  in  Venice  later  in  date, 
than  the  final  additions  to  the  Ducal  Palace, 
the  noblest,  beyond  all  question,  is  the  Post 
Office  (now  the  Court  of  Appeals),  still  known 
to  the  gondolier  by  its  ancient  name,  the  Casa 
Grimani.  It  is  composed  of  three  stories,  of  the 
Corinthian  order,  at  once  simple,  delicate,  and 
sublime  ;  but  on  so  colossal  a  scale  that  the 
three-storied  palaces  on  its  right  and  left 
only  roach  to  the  cornice  which  marks  the 
level  of  its  first  floor.  Nor  is  the  finish  of 
its  details  less  notable  than  the  grandeur  of 


210  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

their  scale.  There  is  not  an  erring  line  nor 
a  mistaken  proportion  throughout  its  noble 
front ;  the  decoration  is  sparing  but  delicate  ; 
the  first  story  simpler  than  the  rest  in  that  it 
has  pilasters  instead  of  shafts  ;  but  all  with 
Corinthian  capitals  rich  in  leafage  and  fruited 
delicately  ;  the  rest  of  the  walls  fiat  and  smooth, 
and  the  mouldings  sharp  and  shallow,  so  that 
the  bold  shafts  look  like  crystals  of  beryl  run- 
ning through  a  rock  of  quartz.  This  palace  is 
the  principal  type  at  Venice,  and  one  of  the 
best  in  Europe  of  the  central  architecture  of 
the  Renaissance  schools — that  carefully  studied 
and  perfectly  executed  architecture  to  which 
those  schools  owe  their  principal  claims  to  our 
respect,  which  became  the  model  of  most  of  the 
important  works  subsequently  produced  by  civ- 
ilized nations.'  ' 

"  What  do  you  consider  the  finest  Renais- 
sance building  in  Venice  f '  Tib  asked. 

"I  agree  with  Hare,"  Angelo  replied,  "in 
thinking  that  the  Libreria  Vecchia,  on  the  west 
side  of  the  Piazzetta,  is  the  finest  building  of 
the  sixteenth  century  in  Venice.  It  is  the  mas- 
terpiece of  Jacopo  Tatti,  called  Sansovino,  in 
1536,  and  is  mentioned  by  Aretino  as  '  super  lore 


A  RAY  OF  LIGHT.  211 

air  inmdiaS  The  foundation  of  the  library 
was  the  collection  of  Petrarch,  who  came  to 
settle  in  Venice  in  1529,  and  made  '  St.  Mark 
the  heir  of  his  library.'  You  must  see  the 
great  hall.  It  is  very  handsome,  and  contains 
paintings  by  Paul  Veronese  and  two  great 
works  of  Tintoretto—'  The  Body  of  St.  Mark 
Stolen  from  the  Saracens  '  and  *  St.  Mark  Res- 
cuing a  Sailor. '  Between  the  windows  are  a 
row  of  philosophers,  which  Ruskin  describes  as 
the  finest  thmg  of  the  kind  in  Europe.  Ad- 
joining the  palace  and  facing  the  lagoon  is  the 
Zecca,  or  mint,  also  built  by  Sansovino.  It 
gave  its  name  to  the  zecchino  or  sequin,  the 
favorite  coin  of  the  republic,  of  the  same  value 
as  the  ducat,  which  derived  its  name  from  the 
word  ducatus  (duchy)." 

"  When  Shylock  laments  his  lost  ducats,  I 
always  wondered  how  much  they  were  worth 
in  our  money, "  said  Tib. 

"  About  six  shillings  now,  but  nine  in  the 
time  of  Shakespeare." 

"  Tell  me  more,  please,  about  Sansovino. 
He-  was  the  chief  architect  of  the  Renaissance, 
was  he  not  ?' ' 

"  Hardly.     We  must  concede  that  honor  to 


212  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Bramanlcj,  who  began  St.  Peter's  at  Home,  and 
built  the  great  galleries  of  the  Vatican  ;  but  he 
never  came  to  Venice,  and  perhaps  Sansovino 
would  not  have  done  so  if  he  had  not  been 
driven  away  by  the  sack  of  Rome.  Fortunate 
it  was  for  our  city  that  he  sought  refuge  here. 
He  was  first  employed  in  restoring  the  cupola 
of  San  Marco,  which  he  did  so  successfully  that 
he  was  given  a  governmental  position  with  a 
house  and  a  salary.  Then  he  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  beautifying  the  Piazza.  He  turned 
out  the  market,  with  its  butchers'  and  green- 
grocers' stalls,  built  the  library  and  fagade 
of  the  Procurazie  and  the  classic  Colonnade 
which  gives  the  Piazza  its  distinction.  Many 
of  the  palaces  which  he  built  are  still  stand- 
ing. I  want  to  take  you  to  the  Palazzo  Del- 
fine,  the  Palazzo  Moro,  the  Palazzo  Garzoni, 
the  Palazzo  Corner  della  Ca'  Grande,  and  the 
Palazzo  Tiepolo.  His  architecture  was  all 
good  construction.  It  was  Palladio  who  built 
facades  which  were  only  masks,  whose  digni- 
fied exterior  did  not  express  the  real  ar- 
rangement of  the  petty  stories  wKch  they 
concealed. " 

"  Then  that  is  why  the  term  Palladian  archi- 


A  RAY  OF  LIGHT.  213 

tecture  has  come  to  mean  something  very  gran- 
diose, but  not  sincere." 

"  Exactly.  The  Church  of  the  Redentore  is 
the  best  example  of  Palladio'  s  style.  I  would 
like  to  show  you  the  difference  between  the 
buildings  of  these  two  architects,  and  you  will 
understand  then  why  Ruskin  disliked  the  later 
Renaissance,  with  its  overloading  of  meaning- 
less ornament,  arid  why  I  admire  the  earlier 
period,  with  its  severe  classicism." 

And  so  it  came  about  that  their  intimacy  was 
strengthened,  and  that  the  count's  resolutions 
to  hold  himself  quite  aloof  were  swept  away. 
Everything  and  everybody  seemed  to  conspire 
to  throw  them  together.  They  visited  not  only 
Sansovino's  palaces,  but  others  of  this  period — > 
the  Palazzo  Baffo,  in  the  Campo  St.  Maurizio, 
decorated  by  Paul  Veronese  ;  the  Palazzo  Mo- 
cenigo,  where  Lord  Byron  lived  ;  the  Vendra- 
mini  Palace,  a  magnificent  specimen  of  the 
Renaissance  style  and  beautifully  restored. 
Ruskin  speaks  of  it  as  "  well  maintained  and 
noticeable  as  having  a  garden  beside  it,  rich 
with  evergreens  and  decorated  by  gilded  rail- 
ings, and  white  statues  that  cast  long  streams 
of  snowy  reflection  down  into  the  d^ep  water.'* 


214  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Many  titled  personages  have  occupied  the  Ven- 
dramini  Palace,  but  its  noblest  guest  was  Rich- 
ard Wagner,  who  died  there  in  1883. 

The  Palazzos  Papadopoli  and  Corner  Spinelli 
were  both  good  examples  of  the  style  ;  but, 
after  the  Grimani,  Tib  liked  best  the  Palazzo 
Pesaro.  These  Renaissance  palaces  were  fre- 
quently richly  frescoed.  Tib  visited  several 
whose  interiors  might  have  served  Howells  for 
this  description  of  one  which  he  does  not  name  : 

"  We  entered  its  coolness  and  dampness,  and 
wandered  up  the  wide  marble  staircase,  past  the 
vacant  niches  of  departed  statuary,  and  came 
on  the  third  floor  to  a  grand  portal,  and  we 
were  aware  that  we  stood  upon  the  threshold  of 
our  ruinous  noble's  great  banqueting  hall, 
where  he  used  to  give  his  magnificent  feste  da 
batto.  Lustrissimo  was  long  gone,  with  all  his 
guests,  but  there  in  the  roof  were  the  amazing 
frescoes  of  Tiepolo's  school  which  had  smiled 
down  on  them  as  now  they  smiled  on  us  ;  great 
piles  of  architecture,  airy  tops  of  palaces  swim- 
ming in  summer  sky,  and  wantoned  over  by  a 
joyous  populace  of  divinities  of  the  lovelier 
sex,  that  had  nothing  but  their  loveliness  to 
clothe  them  and  keep  them  afloat ;  the  whole 


A  RAT  OF  LIGHT.  215 

grandiose  and  superb  beyond  the  effect  of 
words,  and  luminous  with  delicious  color.  How 
it  all  rioted  there  with  its  inextinguishable 
beauty  in  the  solitude  and  silence,  from  day  to 
day,  from  year  to  year,  while  men  died  and 
systems  passed,  and  nothing  remained  un- 
changed but  the  instincts  of  youth  and  love 
which  inspired  it.  It  was  music  and  wine  and 
wit ;  it  was  so  warm  and  glowing  that  it  made 
the  sunlight  cold  ;  and  it  seemed  ever  after  a 
secret  of  gladness  and  beauty  that  the  sad  old 
palace  was  keeping  in  its  heart. " 

It  seemed  to  Tib  and  Winnie  that  they  knew 
the  fair  dames  who  had  revelled  in  this  great 
ball-room,  for  they  had  copied  many  of  the 
charming  pastels  of  Rosalba  Camera,*  who 
has  left  such  an  exquisite  record  of  the  noble 
ladies  of  Venice. 

It  was  the  gayest,  maddest  ^period  of  Vene- 
tian society,  while  already  premonitions  of  the 
downfall  of  Venetian  supremacy  were  to  be  dis- 
cerned by  the  thoughtful,  but  were  disregarded 
by  those  in  power.  Tib  studied  the  period 
with  great  delight ;  and  the  two  figures  which 

*  For  a  sketch  of  the  life  and  work  of  this  artist,  see  "  Witch 
Winnie  at  Versailles. ' ' 


216  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

interested  her  most  were  Titian  and  Sansovino. 
She  found  that  the  latter,  with  all  his  busy 
career  as  an  architect,  found  time  also  for 
sculpture.  There  is  a  lovely  Madonna  of  his 
kover  the  door  of  San  Marco  ;  and  the  bronze 
doors  of  its  sacristy,  which  he  designed,  are 
works  of  great  genius.  Leader  Scott  sums  up 
his  career  with  this  fitting  tribute  : 

"  So  in  a  life  of  constant  industry,  Sansovino 
passed  nearly  a  century  of  usefulness,  loved  by 
all  who  were  near  to  him,  and  esteemed  by  the 
illustrious  men  of  his  age.  At  the  time  when 
he  used  to  sit  among  the  flowers  in  Titian's 
waterside  garden,  he  was  a  venerable  old  man 
with  a  long  white  beard,  which  in  his  youth 
had  been  auburn.  He  was  upright,  handsome- 
ly dressed,  and  dependent  neither  upon  specta- 
cles nor  walking-staff.  Upright  in  character  as 
well  as  body,  he  never  broke  his  word  nor  de- 
ceived a  living  soul ;  quick  to  anger,  he  was 
also  quick  to  make  amends,  and  none  ever  suf- 
fered an  injustice  from  him.  After  such  a  life, 
death  touched  him  gently.  Feeling  weary  one 
day,  as  at  ninety-three  a  man  might  well  do,  he 
laid  down  to  repose,  and  after  a  short  time  of 
calm  rest,  without  pain,  he  passed  away. " 


A  HAY  OF  LIGHT. 

All  that  Tib  learned  of  Sansovino  and  his  work 
interested  her  so  much  that  she  determined  to 

* 

ask  Violante  to  let  her  copy  his  letter,  that  she 
might  ask  the  count  to  help  her  translate  it ; 
but  they  were  so  busy  with  their  studies  that 
she  never  carried  out  this  intention. 

The  book  was  finished  at  last,  written  and 
illustrated  and  sent  to  the  printer,  and  each 
realized  that  their  pleasant  days  of  companion- 
ship were  ended.  Tib  accepted  the  situation 
very  quietly.  If  she  had  learned  to  enjoy  this 
co-operative  study  more  than  her  solitary  paint- 
ing, she  did  not  confess  it  even  to  herself,  but 
went  back  to  her  former  work  very  cheerfully. 

Not  so  Angelo.  His  work  was  finished  ;  and, 
with  nothing  to  occupy  his  thoughts,  and  this 
delightful  comradeship  at  an  end,  he  was 
doubly  bereft.  He  thought  of  a  dozen  schemes 
for  study  which  they  might  pursue  together, 
but  he  was  too  honest  to  propose  them.  He 
knew  that  they  were  only  subterfuges  to  enjoy 
her  society,  which,  according  to  tfie  conditions 
which  he  had  set  himself,  he  could  not  honor- 
ably do.  His  lawyer  had  reported  that  he  had 
made  every  research  possible,  and  that  there 
was  no  possibility  of  proving  that  Giovanni 


218  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Zanelli  had  been  judicially  murdered,  unless 
the  Greek  Chrysolarus  had  left  some  written 
statement,  or  if  it  could  be  proved  by  the  writ- 
ten statement  of  other  witnesses  that  Chryso- 
larus was  not  sent  by  the  Sultan,  but  was  in 
reality  a  student  of  medicine,  and  that  the  prac- 
tices of  Dr.  Zanelli  were  all  in  the  legitimate 
line  of  his  profession.  The  lawyer  had  caused 
inquiries  to  be  made  in  Constantinople  and  in 
Athens  for  any  persons  by  the  name  of  Chryso- 
larus, hoping  to  be  able  to  learn  something  of 
this  mysterious  man  through  his  descendants, 
but  so  far  all  of  these  researches  had  been 
utterly  without  success.  For  days  Angelo 
brooded  over  the  matter,  reasoning  in  a  circle 
and  always  coming  back  to  the  same  walled 
door. 

The  others  noticed  his  depression,  but  no  one 
but  Winnie  had  any  clew  as  to  its  cause.  "  He 
is  acting  Hamlet  all  to  himself,"  she  thought, 
*'  and  is  so  overwrought  thinking  of  -a  past 
tragedy  that  he  is  creating  one  for  himself  in 
the  present.  I  will  have  another  talk  with  him 
and  see  if  I  can't  straighten  him  out." 

Even  as  this  benevolent  resolve  formed  itself 
in  Winnie's  mind,  Angelo  tapped  at  her  door. 


A  KAY  OF  LIGHT.  219 

"  Please  step  out  on  the  balcony,"  lie  said. 
"  I  have  something  very  important  to  tell 
you." 

Winnie  obeyed  the  summons.  The  count 
held  a  newspaper  crumpled  in  his  hand  and 
was  strangely  excited.  "You  told  me,"  he 
said,  "  if  I  could  not  prove  my  ancestor  inno- 
cent to  disregard  the  possibility  of  any  inherit- 
ed taint  and  go  to  the  Signorita  Nellie  as  though 
I  were  affected  in  no  way  by  the  doings  of  my 
race." 

"  I  told  you  that  I  believed  such  taints  could 
be  overcome  by  one's  own  effort,  and  that  they 
faded  away  entirely  in  time.  So  that  you 
would  probably  never  feel  any  temptation 
whatever  to  crime,  but  only  the  more  abhor- 
rence for  it  because  it  once  existed  in  your 
family." 

"  You  used  a  remarkable  simile  to  enforce 
what  you  said,"  the  count  continued.  "  It  was, 
you  thought,  as  impossible  that  I  should  feel 
such  an  impulse  as  that  in  these  latter  days, 
when  we  understand  the  laws  of  life  so  well, 
the  plague  should  revisit  Venice." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Winnie  ;  "  I  think  that  the 
one  is  as  little  possible  as  the  other.  The  con- 


220  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

ditions  for  moral  and  physical  disease  have 
alike  changed.  Think  how  different  are  our 
ideas  on  sanitation — the  great  preventive  of 
disease— and  you  are  morally  different,  finer 
and  stronger,  than  a  man  even  of  your  own 
race  could  have  been  three  centuries  ago." 

Angelo  laughed.  "  Yes,  the  conditions  have 
all  changed,"  he  said.  "  Nothing  is  the  same 
except  good  and  evil,  life  and  death,  love  and 
despair.  And  in  spite  of  all  the  improvement 
I  am  the  descendant  of  a  criminal.  And — the 
plague  is  raging  in  India  and  is  very  likely  to 
revisit  Venice." 

He  handed  her  the  paper,  and  to  her  surprise 
she  saw  that  his  words  were  true. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry,"  she  exclaimed;  "so 
sorry  that  I  used  so  unfortunate  an  illustra- 
tion. But  do  not  lay  too  much  stress  upon 
that.  Tell  Tib  all  about  it.  Let  her  decide. 
It  is  not  fair  to  her  not  to  do  so.  You  are  not 
the  only  one  concerned.  Her  judgment  may  be 
better  than  yours.  I  do  not  know  what  the 
crime  of  your  ancestor  was,  but  surely  it  can 
have  no  connection  with  the  plague,  or  the  com- 
ing of  that  terrible  scourge  have  anything  to  do 
with  you." 


A  RAT  OF  LIGHT.  221 

lt  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  saying," 
Angelo  replied.  "  My  ancestor's  crime  was 
that  he  let  loose  the  plague  upon  Venice,  and 
the  only  reason  why  it  should  come  again 
would  be  to  destroy  the  descendants  of  that 
guilty  man." 

"  Angelo  Zanelli  !"  Winnie  exclaimed,  "  you 
have  brooded  over  this  matter  until  you  are 
going  insane.  Do  not  think  of  it.  Put  it  out 
of  your  mind.  I  do  not  believe  that  any  one  of 
your  race  could  have  committed  such  a  crime. 
It  is  simply  impossible,  some  wicked  plot  in- 
vented by  his  enemies." 

"  I  have  thought  it  might  be  so,"  Angelo  re- 
plied somewhat  more  calmly  ;  "  but  Giovanni 
Zanelli  had  no  enemies." 

11  Depend  upon  it  you  will  find  that  he  had,' ' 
Winnie  insisted,  her  only  thought  to  get  him 
started  upon  another  subject.  "  Try  to  think 
up  all  the  family  traditions  ;  were  there  never 
any  feuds  or  quarrels  between  your  people  and 
their  neighbors  ?  Ask  your  mother." 

Angelo  frowned.  "No,  not  her,"  he  said. 
"  She  knows  nothing  of  all  this,  and  must  be 
spared.  She  is  not  a  Zanelli  by  blood  as  I  am. 
And  she  would  know  nothing  of  our  history, 


222  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

for  my  father  never  talked  with  her  of  his 
family." 

"  But  you  must  have  relations.  There  are 
always  maiden  aunts  or  old  uncles  who  are  per- 
fect cyclopaedias  of  genealogical  information." 

"  Yes,  I  have  an  aunt  who  married  into  the 
Cecini  family.  She  was  just  what  you  de- 
scribe ;  but  I  have  not  seen  her  for  years,  and 
she  lives  in  Rome." 

"  There  !"  said  Winnie  ;  1 ' 1  knew  there  must 
be  an  aunt.  Write  her  immediately  ;  or,  bet- 
ter, go  and  see. her." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  don't  think—" 

But  Winnie  darted  away.  She  had  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Tib  approaching  the  door,  and  she 
ran  to  meet  her.  "  Come  straight  up  to  the 
balcony,"  she  said,  "and  talk  to  Angelo  /a- 
nelli ;  he  is  nearly  distracted." 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  Tib  asked  anxiously. 

"  Nothing  is  really  the  matter.  He  has  sim- 
ply been  studying  that  very  hard  question  in 
the  Catechism  which  I  never  could  answer  when 
I  was  a  child.  Let  me  see  ;  how  did  it  go  ? 
'  Did  all  mankind  fall  in  Adam's  first  transgres- 
sion ? '  That  was  the  question,  and  the  answer 
was :  *  All  mankind,  descending  from  him  in 


A  EAT  OF  LIGHT.  223 

ordinary  generation,  sinned  in  him  and  fell 
with  him  in  the  first  transgression. '  When  my 
grandmother  used  to  catechise  me  Sunday  even- 
ings, I  always  went  to  pieces  on  that  question." 

"I  don't  wonder;  but  I  can't  understand 
why  Count  Zanelli  should  bother  his  brains 
about  a  question  in  the  Westminster  Cate- 
chism, which  no  one  puzzles  over  any  longer." 

"Go  and  tell  him  so,  and  perhaps  you  can 
lift  him  out  of  his  doleful  dumps.  I  couldn't." 

"  Winnie,  what  joke  is  this  of  yours  ?" 

"No  joke,  I  assure  you.  Go  and  ask  the 
count  what  is  troubling  him  and  see  what  he 
will  say." 

But  Tib  found  Angelo  in  a  very  different 
mood  from  that  in  which  Winnie  had  left  him. 
As  soon  as  she  had  disappeared  he  had  turned 
again  to  his  newspaper,  and  continued  to  read 
the  article  descriptive  of  the  plague. 

"  The  native  physicians  are  very  ignorant, 
and  are  worse  than  helpless  in  this  emergency. 
The  victims  are  daily  exposed  to  die  on  the 
banks  of  the  Ganges.  Only  one  doctor  in  the 
province  appears  to  have  any  success  in  treating 
the  malady,  and  this  is  a  man  of  Greek  descent, 
named  Chrysolarus,  who  comes  from  a  long  line 


324  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

of  physicians,  and  is  said  to  be  in  possession  of 
a  family  secret  by  which  his  ancestors  have 
from  time  to  time  successfully  treated  this  dis- 
ease at  different  periods  of  its  visitation." 

A  wild  hope  sprang  up  in  Angelo  Zanelli'.s 
heart.  What  if  this  Dr.  Chrysolarus  were  a 
descendant  of  the  Greek  who  had  fled  at  the 
time  of  Giovanni  Zanelli's  trial  ?  What  if  he 
were  no  bearer  of  bribes,  but  an  earnest  seeker 
after  knowledge,  and  if  the  practices  which  had 
been  regarded  as  nefarious  were  gropings  after 
some  new  remedies  and  preventions  for  this 
dread  disease  \  The  possibility  made  his  brain 
reel ;  and  Tib,  who  came  to  him  expecting  to 
find  him  in  one  of  his  dark  moods,  was  surprised 
at  the  look  of  exultant  joy  with  which  he  greet- 
ed her. 

"  You  have  come  from  the  Signorita  Win- 
nie ? '  he  asked.  "  She  has  told  you  ?' ' 

"  Not  a  great  deal ;  only  that  you  were 
troubled  about  some  problem. " 

"  A  problem  ?  Ah  !  that  is  it ;  but  the  solu- 
tion is  perhaps  near.  Only  I  must  go  to  India 
to  find  it." 

"To  India!  What  is  the  problem?  Must 
you  stay  long  3" 


A  HAY  OF  LIGHT.  225 

Her  voice  trembled.  If  Angelo  was  to  be 
detained  long  in  India  they  might  return  to 
America  before  he  came  back,  and  this  be  the 
end  of  everything. 

He  saw  the  look  of  dismay  in  her  face,  but 
dared  not  comfort  his  heart  with  what  it  might 
mean. 

"  Sit  down,  Signorita  Nellie,  and  I  will  tell 
you  the  problem."  And  he  told  her  the  story 
of  the  old  alchemist,  and  his  great  desire  to 
prove  him  an  honorable  man,  but  not  of  the 
issues  which  hung  on  that  proof. 

"  And  you  must  go  ?  Why  do  you  not  write 
first?" 

"Yes,  I  shall  write,  but  I  feel  that  I  shall 
go  ;  but  first  I  must  tell  my  mother  everything, 
otherwise  she  could  not  understand  the  neces- 
sity of  this  journey." 

"  You  should  have  told  her  before.  A  trou- 
ble shared  with  one  who  loves  us  is  a  trouble 
halved." 

"But  I  would  not  have  her  bear  rven  half 
the  trouble." 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  one  can  hide  trouble 
from  one's  mother  ?  She  has  known  all  along 
that  something  distressed  you,  and  it  has  wor- 


226  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

ried  her  infinitely  more  because  you  have  not 
given  her  your  confidence,  because  she  did  not 
know  what  this  trouble -was,  than  if  she  had 
been  told  the  truth.  I  have  seen  her  watch 
you  with  such  a  hungry,  devouring  gaze,  as 
though  she  would  read  your  very  soul,  and 
then  jest  bravely,  as  though  her  heart  were  as 
light  as  a  young  girl's,  when  you  gave  her  one 
of  your  dark,  suspicious  looks,  as  though  you 
felt  and  resented  her  watchfulness." 

"  And  you  have  seen  all  that !  And  I  have 
been  so  blind  !" 

"  It  takes  a  woman,  I  think,  to  perfectly 
read  another  woman' s  heart.  Tell  your  moth- 
er, Angelo,  and  always  tell  her  everything. " 

And  when  Angelo  told  her  he  was  surprised 
to  see  how  little  of  a  shock  it  was.  "  I  wish 
your  father  had  told  me  this  long  ago,"  she 
said.  "  It  would  have  made  many  mysteries 
clear." 

"  Would  you  have  married  him,  mother,  if 
you  had  known  this  family  secret  V 

11  Certainly,  my  dear.  I  would  have  given 
him  the  consolation  of  my  devotion  all  the 
more  readily  if  I  had  known  how  sorely  he 
needed  it." 


A  BAY  OF  LIGHT.  227 

Angelo's  heart  leaped ;  but  he  added,  after  a 
moment's  thought :  ' '  But  was  it  right  for  father, 
knowing  what  he  did,  to  hand  down  this  curse 
of  inherited  criminal  instincts  ?' ' 

"  My  son,  you  are  not  your  father's  judge," 
the  contessa  replied.  "  Moreover,  I  am  certain 
that  he  did  not  believe— nor  do  I  believe— that 
your  ancestor  was  a  criminal."  ^ 

"If  he  could  only  have  proved  that,  how 
happy  we  would  all  have  been  !" 

A  look  of  infinite  pity  came  into  his  mother's 
face.  "  Even  that  knowledge  might  not  have 
removed  all  obstacles  to.  our  marriage.  Still  it 
is  best  to  know  the  whole  truth,  and  the  only 
grief  that  is  insupportable  is  the  wickedness  of 
those  near  and  dear  to  us." 

After  this  the  days  sped  by  rapidly  until  a 
letter  was  received  from  the  Dr.  Chrysolarus  in 
India,  saying  that  an  ancestor  of  his  had  had  an 
intimate  friend  named  Zanelli,  and  that  he  was 
in  the  possession  of  a  chest  of  papers,  medical 
disquisitions  and  records  of  observations  writ- 
ten by  this  Dr.  Zanelli,  which  he  would  show 
to  Angelo  with  pleasure  if  he  would  come  to 
India,  though  he  was  unwilling  to  send  them  to 
Venice. 


228  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

This  at  once  decided  Angelo  to  take  the 
journey.  His  mother,  after  studying  the  docu- 
ments in  the  alchemist's  cabinet,  made  no  ob- 
jection, but,  on  the  contrary,  encouraged  it, 
though  she  expressed  no  great  hope  of  his 
finding  the  data  he  sought. 

"It  is  always  best  to  do  all  one  can,"  she 
said.  "  Action,  the  change  of  scene,  will  do  you 
good  ;  and  in  the  mean  time  I  will  renew  com- 
munication with  your  relatives  in  Rome." 

-  The  contessa  had  at  first  desired  to  go  with 
her  son  ;  but  to  this,  on  account  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  plague  in  the  country,  he  would  not 
listen ;  and  John  accepted  an  invitation  to 
make  the  trip  with  him  as  his  companion. 

Angelo  kept  his  determination  to  make  no 
revelation  to  the  last ;  only  when  parting  from 
Tib  he  said,  "  I  depend  upon  you  to  cheer  my 
mother  until  I  return." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

A   MODERN  ALCHEMIST. 

HORTLY  after  Count  Zanelli's  de- 
parture an  event  occurred  which, 
was  of  interest  to  all  the  Amer- 
icans at  the  Palaz- 
zo Zanelli,  though 
more     particularly 
so  to  Winnie.    This 
was  the  unexpected 
arrival  of  Dr.  Van 
Silva,       familiarly 
known  as  Van  to 
readers    of    former 
volumes  of  this  series. 

When  Winnie  left  Holland  it  was  Van's  in- 
tention to  sail  shortly  for  America  ;  but  about 
this  time  the  plague  appeared  in  China,  and  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  investigators  in  pathol- 
ogy. One  of  Van's  old  classmates  at  the  Pas- 
teur Laboratory  in  Paris,  Dr.  Yersin,  discovered 


'"•'SO  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

.die  plague  germ  and  labored  to  cultivate  an 
anti-plague  serum  which  would  prove  the  same 
antidote  for  this  disease  as  antitoxin  for  diph- 
theria. By  inoculating  goats  and  donkeys 
with  the  plague  bacillus,  at  first  in  minute 
quantities,  and  repeating  the  inoculation  from 
time  to  time,  he  succeeded  in  developing  a  germ 
which,  introduced  into  the  blood  of  a  plague- 
stricken  patient,  destroyed  the  deadly  bacillus. 
Dr.  Yersin  proved  the  efficacy  of  his  great 
discovery  by  nursing  twenty-three  victims  of 
the  plague  in  Amoy,  of  whom  he  cured  twenty- 
one,  when  in  the  ordinary  course  of  the  disease 
twenty-one  at  least  would  have  died. 

Van  was  full  of  admiration  for  this  great 
pioneer  in  medical  science,  and  of  enthusiasm 
for  the  study  of  bacteriology  itself,  and  instead 
of  returning  to  America,  he  lingered  in  Paris, 
studying  its  latest  developments.  Just  at  this 
time  a  convention  of  scientists  was  held  at  Ven- 
ice to  discuss  the  disease,  and  Van  determined 
at  once  to  attend  it.  He  had  a  vague  hope  that 
a  way  might  open  to  his  going  out  to  the 
Orient  either  to  join  Dr.  Yersin  or  as  a  medical 
missionary  to  some  other  plague-stricken  dis- 
trict ;  and  even  if  this  project  should  fail,  Van 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  231 

felt  that  the  irip  to  Venice  would  be  fully  re- 
warded by  the  pleasure  of  again  meeting  Win- 
nie. He  was  glad  that  the  convention  would 
detain  him  for  some  time  in  the  beautiful  city  ; 
and  though  under  ordinary  circumstances  he 
would  have  fumed  with  impatience  at  the  slow- 
ness of  its  proceedings,  and'  that  there  seemed 
to  be  no  likelihood  of  the  organization  of  any 
expedition  of  scientists  for  experimental  study 
or  of  a  relief  corps  of  nurses  and  physicians 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Red  Cross,  he  quieted 
his  conscience  with  the  plea  that  the  delay  was 
enforced,  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  delight 
which  he  always  experienced  in  Winnie's  so- 
ciety. 

At  first  he  had  taken  a  room  at  a  neighbor- 
ing hotel,  but  he  happened  to  mention  to  Win- 
nie that  he  desired  an  apartment  where  he 
could  carry  on  his  studies  and  experiments, 
and  as  the  contessa  had  shown  the  old  alche- 
mist's little  suite  quite  unreservedly  to  them  all, 
explaining  the  spring  which  opened  the  secret 
door  in  the  studio,  it  immediately  occurred  to 
Winnie  that  this  was  the  very  place  for  Van. 
He  agreed  with  her  emphatically,  and  Adelaide 
was  empowered  to  negotiate  with  the  contessa 


232  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

for  the  rental  of  the  rooms.  The  contessa  kind- 
ly responded  by  insisting  that  Van  should  oc- 
cupy them  as  her  guest,  and  Van  was  imme- 
diately installed.  The  place  was  marvellously 
fitted  for  all  his  needs,  for  in  the  walled  gar- 
den, with  which  the  suite  alone  communicated, 
there  were  old  rabbit  hutches  and  sheds  for  ani- 
mals. As  Van  laughingly  remarked,  if  the  old 
alchemist  had  himself  been  a  bacteriologist,  he 
could  not  have  provided  him  more  perfectly 
with  conveniences  where  experiments  could  be 
carried  on  apart  from  the  espionage  of  prying 
curiosity. 

Van  was  greatly  interested  in  the  history  of 
this  Dr.  Zanelli  as  Winnie  and  Tib  recounted 
it.  He  deeply  regretted  that  his  library  had 
been  burned,  as  he  would  have  enjoyed  brows- 
ing in  the  old  books  and  ascertaining  just  the 
status  of  the  science  of  medicine  in  the  six- 
teenth century.  The  alchemist's  cabinet  was 
put  at  his  disposal,  and  Tib  showed  him  the 
record  of  Dr.  Zanelli's  trials  and  the  diary, 
written  in  a  hand  as  perfect  as  print  and  with 
perfectly  black  ink  on  yellowed  parchment  in 
scholarly  Latin. 

Van  translated  the  record  of  the  trials  first, 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  233 

and  then  took  up  the  diary,  reading  scraps  of 
it  each  morning  to  the  girls  as  they  took  their 
coffee  together  on  the  balcony  before  they  sepa- 
rated for  the  work  of  the  day. 

The  girls  had  taken  up  a  new  occupation, 
which  for  several  days  in  the  week  interrupted 
their  artistic  study. 

The  contessa  had  said  to  Tib  :  "In  the  old 
days,  when  the  Crusaders  sailed  away  to  the 
Orient,  their  wives  and  sweethearts,  mothers 
and  sisters,  filled  the  dreary  days  of  absence 
with  works  of  charity  and  religion.  As  Angelo 
fears  that  his  ancestor  may  have  been  responsi- 
ble for  bringing  the  plague  to.  Venice,  or  at 
least  for  its  spread  by  his  foolhardy  experi- 
ments, I  intend  to  do  what  I  can  to  combat  its 
coming  at  this  time.  If  your  friend  Dr.  Van 
Silva  will  write  a  lecture,  giving  the  best  means 
for  its  prevention  by  simple  sanitary  rules,  that 
should  be  known  and  can  be  obeyed  by  every 
one,  I  will  translate  the  lecture  into  Italian  and 
invite  my  friends  to  hear  it. " 

Van  was  very  happy  to  do  this  ;  and  by  the 
contessa' s  efforts  a  club  was  founded  among  in- 
fluential people,  having  for  its  object  the  im- 
provement of  the  sanitation  of  Venice.  The 


234  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

contessa  did  more  than  this  ;  she  invited  the 
school-teachers  to  her  house,  and  explained  to 
them  how  they  could  instruct  their  pupils  in 
some  of  the  first  principles  of  healthful  living, 
and  especially  in  the  importance  of  personal 
cleanliness.  With  the  fresh  salt  water  constant- 
ly lapping  their  doorsteps,  there  was  no  excuse 
for  the  poorest  for  dirty  linen  or  filthy  persons. 
It  was  just  here  that  Winnie  and  Tib  organized 
a  scheme  which  put  into  practice  the  theories 
taught  by  the  school-teachers.  Violante's  sis- 
ter was  an  expert  laundress.  The  picturesque 
court  with  the  carved  well-curb,  where  the  girls 
painted,  was  frequently  sloppy  with  little  run- 
nels of  water,  whose  cerulean  hue  came  from 
the  indigo  on  her  bench,  and  on  other  days  the 
sunny  side  of  the  wooden  balcony  was  white 
with  linen  drying,  and  the  two  scaldinos  that 
heated  her  irons  were  each  red  hot.  But  Pla- 
cida  could  not  get  sufficient  custom  to  keep  her 
busy,  and  Winnie  and  Tib  subsidized  her  for 
two  days  in  each  week  to  open  a  free  school  in 
fine  laundry  work  for  girls.  Not  only  were  the 
girls  taught  free  of  charge,  but  they  were  en- 
couraged to  bring  the  family  washing  to  prac- 
tise upon.  Placida  soon  had  so  many  pupils 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  235 

that  she  could  not  attend  to  them,  so  Tib  and 
Winnie,  who  could  not  afford  to  increase  their 
money  contribution,  assisted  in  teaching  the 
children  on  ironing  day.  The  contessa  was 
delighted,  and  offered  prizes  for  the  most  ex- 
pert— cakes  of  scented  soap,  combs,  and  tooth- 
brushes— while  excursions  to  the  Lido,  with 
surf  bathing,  were  provided  once  a  week  for 
the  entire  class  ;  this  as  a  matter  of  pure  enjoy- 
ment, with  no  hint  to  the  children  that  it,  too, 
was  a  sanitary  measure  and  a  part  of  the  cru- 
sade against  filth  and  disease.  They  soon 
begged  to  take  their  brothers  and  sisters  with 
them  to  share  in  this  pleasure,  and  many  of 
them  became  fine  swimmers  and  divers.  Teach- 
ing the  little  laundresses  was  work  to  which 
neither  of  the  girls  had  been  accustomed, 
and  on  certain  days,  when  the  heat  was  more 
than  usually  sultry,  it  was  very  trying  ;  but  the 
excursions  to  the  Lido  were  always  delightful. 
Yan  went  with  them,  and  was  a  great  help  as 
marshal.  Winnie  was  a  prize  swimmer,  and  more 
than  once  her  quick  perception  and  prompt, 
cool  action  saved  the  life  of  one  of  her  charges. 
It  was  owing  to  her  that  the  season  ended  with- 
out an  accident,  for  Tib's  heroism  was  of  an- 


236  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

other  sort,  and  she  admired  Winnie's  dash  with- 
out being  able  to  emulate  it,  never  realizing 
that  the  self-abnegation  which  enabled  her  to 
care  for  the  children  on  their  way  to  the  Lido 
was  as  truly  heroism  as  Winnie's  more  brilliant 
exploits.  Though  always  gentle  and  kind,  she 
was  firm  upon  one  point.  She  would  never 
allow  a  dirty  child  to  caress  her.  "  After  you 
have  had  your  bath  and  are  sweet  and  clean," 
she  would  promise,  "  I  will  kiss  you  with 
pleasure."  And  many  a  child,  in  order  to  win 
this  sweet  guerdon,  the  sooner  scrubbed  her 
face  energetically  before  going  to  the  Lido. 
The  results  of  that  summer's  instruction  in 
cleanliness  were  incalculable.  Each  child  car- 
ried to  its  home  new  ideals  of  purity,  and 
became  herself  a  missionary  of  that  virtue 
which  is  not  only  "next  to,"  but  an  essen- 
tial part  of  godliness.  She  had  a  way,  too, 
of  impressing  them  with  moral  lessons  by  con- 
demning a  boy  who  had  used  foul  language 
to  have  his  mouth  washed  with  strong  black 
soap  by  two  of  the  older  girls,  and  she  taught 
them  such  texts  as  "Blessed  are  the  pure  in 
heart." 

It  was  Placida,  however,  who  taught  them  to 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  237 

sing  the  laundress's  song,  which  has  been  trans- 
lated by  George  Borrow  : 

"  I'll  weary  myself  each  night  and  each  day 

To  aid  my  unfortunate  brothers, 
As  the  laundress  tans  her  own  face  in  the  ray 
To  cleanse  the  garments  of  others." 

"  You  must  find  this  a  great  interruption  to 
your  regular  work,"  the  contessa  said  one  day. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Winnie  replied,  point- 
ing to  the  little  silver  cross  which  she  always 
wore,  "it  is  a  part  of  the  work  which  we  are 
pledged  to  do.  Tib  and  I  have  felt  so  selfish 
all  winter  that  we  could  not  thoroughly  enjoy 
our  art  work.  We  have  been  homesick,  too, 
for  the  Messiah  Home,  but  now  we  feel  that  we 
have  found  some  work  that  we  can  do  for  our 
Elder  Brother  even  here,  and  so  we  can  really 
enjoy  the  other  privileges  that  come  to  us." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  the  Messiah  Home  V ' 
the  contessa  asked,  and  Winnie  told  her  of  the 
'*  children's  charity  for  children."  The  home, 
which  is  such  more  than  in  name,  where  home- 
less children  are  cared  for,  *  in  great  part 

*  The  Messiah  Home,  145  East  Fifteenth  Street,  New  York, 
has  been  described  in  previous  volumes  of  this  series.  Its 
Vautiful  work  still  goes  on,  aided  largely  by  children. 


238  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. ' 

through  the  efforts  of  the  King's  Daughters, 
the  Junior  League,  and  other  bands  of  children. 

"  Are  there  any  Italian  children  there  V  the 
contessa  asked. 

"  The  home  has  cared  for  a  great  many  Ital- 
ians first  and  last,"  Winnie  replied.  "I  re- 
member .the  three  Amati  girls  and  the  Stavini 
boy  at  its  very  first  founding.  And  is  it  not 
odd,  dear  contessa,  our  first  fair  was  in  imita- 
tion of  a  Venetian  fete.  That  was  because  Tib 
was  always  fond  of  anything  that  had  anything 
to  do  with  Venice." 

The  contessa  looked  lovingly  at  Tib.  "  And 
why  was  that,  my  dear,  since  at  that  time  you 
had  not  seen  Venice  V 

Tib  was  too  honest  not  to  answer  truly. 
"  My  love  for  Venice  dates  from  my  childhood. 
It  was  Count  Angelo  who  told  me  about  the 
city  first." 

"Then  my  son  must  help  you  with  that 
Home  of  the  Elder  Brother  of  which  you  speak. 
That  idea  of  endowing  a  l  guest  bed  '  is  a 
charming  one,  and  Lolo  shall  own  one  there, 
where  Italian  children  far  from  home  shall  be 
entertained.  Tell  me  how  to  make  out  the 
check,  and  paint  for  me,  to  hang  over  the  cot, 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  239 

some  scene  in  Venice.  I  would  not  have  Ital- 
ian children  forget  their  native  land  even  in  my 
own  hospitable  country." 

So  the  summer  passed.  It  seemed  a  long 
time  to  Tib  before  the  contessa  received  the 
first  letter  announcing  her  son's  arrival  in  Bom- 
bay. His  description  of  the  plague  and  of  the 
famine  was  heartrending.  John  Nash,  too, 
who  at  another  time  would  have  had  eyes  only 
for  the  wonderful  Indian  architecture,  and  the 
picturesque  aspects  of  Oriental  life,  wrote  only 
now  of  the  horror  of  the  Black  Death. 

They  had  to  journey  some  distance  into  the 
interior  to  reach  the  town  where  Dr.  Chryso- 
larus  lived.  The  count  wrote  that  his  quest  in 
the  presence  of  so  much  misery  seemed  a  very 
selfish  one  ;  but  that  he  should  endeavor  to  re- 
lieve as  much  suffering  as  possible  on  his  way. 
He  regretted  that  he  had  not  studied  medi- 
cine ;  money  could  do  so  little  without  knowl- 
edge. 

When  Winnie  heard  this  she  could  hardly 
contain  herself.  "  Here  is  Van,"  she  thought, 
"  who  has  the  knowledge.  If  the  count  only 
knew,  perhaps  he  would  furnish  the  means  for 
Van  to  join  him.  What  a  pity  that  he  did  not 


240  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

reach  Venice  before  the  count  started,  and  go 
with  him  instead  of  John  Nash." 

But  delicacy  pre vented  both  Tib  and  Winnie 
from  suggesting  this  to  the  contessa  or  from 
writing  to  the  count,  and  Van  waited  in  vain 
for  any  action  on  the  part  of  the  convention. 
But  his  stay  was  not  a  futile  one.  Besides  aid- 
ing the  contessa  in  her  plan  for  the  good  of 
Venice,  he  was  learning  much,  and  more  by  his 
individual  studies  and  experiments  than  from 
the  discussions  at  the  convention.  He  was 
greatly  interested,  as  we  have  said»  in  the  diary 
of  the  old  alchemist.  "  He  seems  to  have  been 
a  very  worthy  man,"  he  said  to  the  contessa, 
who  had  requested  him  to  read  the  diary  and 
give  her  his  opinion  of  its  author.  "  He  was 
evidently  an  enthusiast  in  his  profession,  and 
particularly  interested  in  studying  the  plague. 
I  find  here  a  note  in  which  he  copies  the  diag- 
nosis given  by  Greek  physicians  in  the  time  of 
Dionysius,  300  B.C.,  and  he  draws  the  conclu- 
sion that  it  was  the  same  disease  which  Boccac- 
cio describes  as  ravaging  Florence  in  1348,  when 
one  hundred  thousand  souls  perished.  He 
makes  the  remark  that  Venice  founded  the  first 
quarantine  in  1403,  and  hopes  that  these  meas- 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  241 

nres  will  be  perfected.  It  is  strange  that  he 
was  considered  a  magician,  for  he  does  not  take 
any  stock  in  sorcery  or  astrology,  which  he 
calls  '  old  wives'  fables.'  He  writes  here  of 
Pietro  of  Albano,  a  doctor  and  professor  at  the 
University  of  Padua,  and  quotes  his  own  state- 
ment that  philosophy  made  him  subtle,  medi- 
cine rich,  and  astrology  a  liar.  He  praises  the 
Doge  Oiio  Maliperi,  who  in  1181  punished  poi- 
soning and  sorcery  with  death.  He  appears  to 
me  to  have  been  an  earnest  seeker  after  truth 
and  an  experimentalist  with  new  methods  rather 
than  a  follower  of  old  ones,  though  he  asserts 
that  the  Arabian  physicians  of  Cordova  and 
Toledo  were  in  possession  of  many  secrets  un- 
known to  the  Italian  men  of  science.  He  was 
a  close  observer  and  very  humane.  He  writer 
frequently  of  the  diseases  of  animals,  and  had 
made  original  study  in  veterinary  science.  I  do 
not  believe  that  such  a  man  could  have  had  any 
malign  motives." 

"  Nor  do  I,"  the  contessa  replied  quickly. 
"  The  Zanellis  were  all  peculiarly  sensitive  and 
tender-hearted.  My  husband  could  never  bear 
to  see  any  creature  suffer.  He  told  me  that  his 
father  would  never  hunt,  or  fish,  or  eat  flesh  of 


242  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

any  kind,  maintaining  that  as  it  was  not  in  our 
power  to  bestow  life,  we  had  no  right  to  take  it 
away.  I  have  never  for  a  moment  thought  that 
this  ancestor  was  a  wholesale  murderer  through 
malice  prepense.  If  he  really  committed  the 
crime  with  which  he  was  charged,  he  was  not  an 
intentional  criminal.  What  I  fear  is  that,  in 
his  wild  experiments,  he  may  have  been  in 
some  sort  answerable  to  the  charge.  My  son's 
lawyer,  who  has  been  looking  this  matter  up 
very  carefully,  says  that  the  Inquisition  never 
had  full  power  in  Venice  to  commit  the  atro- 
cious murders  which  signalized  it  in  other  parts 
of  Italy  and  in  Spain,  and  though  at  the  time 
our  ancestor  was  executed  Leo  X.  was  using 
his  utmost  power  to  push  on  its  work,  and  had 
published  his  bull  '  Honestis, '  upbraiding  the 
laxity  and  leniency  which  had  been  displayed 
during  previous  pontificates,  his  most  energetic 
expressions  could  not  induce  the  Signoria  to 
give  up  its  right  of  final  decision  in  all  matters 
of  life  and  death.  The  Inquisition  might  ferret 
out  heresy,  sorcery,  or  other  crimes  ;  might 
prosecute  and  even  condemn,  but  sentence 
could  only  be  pronounced  and  executed  by  the 
Council  of  Ten.  So,  while  the  persecution  of 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  243 

the  Waldenses  raged  around  us  in  other  parts 
of  Venetia,  and  seventy  witches  were  burned  in 
one  year  in  Brescia,  the  Inquisitor  Fra  Antonio 
called  in  vain  upon  our  Senate  for  aid  in  sup- 
porting his  measures,  and  Venice  remained  a 
haven  of  refuge  for  the  persecuted.  Conse- 
quently, though  the  crime  for  which  our  ances- 
tor finally  suffered  was  said  to  have  been  com- 
mitted during  the  plague  of  1511,  he  was  twice 
brought  to  trial,  and  was  not  finally  executed 
until  fully  ten  years  later.  It  would  seem  that 
he  had  every  chance  for  justice,  for  at  his  first 
trial  he  was  acquitted  by  the  Holy  Office  itself, 
through  the  influence  of  Cardinal  Bembo,  and 
the  matter  was  never  carried  to  the  Signoria. 
But  when  the  charges  were  renewed  and  ap- 
proved to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Inquisition, 
the  proceedings  were  carefully  revised  and  rati- 
fied by  the  Council  of  Ten,  so  that  he  perished 
not  alone  as  a  victim  of  the  Inquisition,  but  as 
an  ordinary  criminal  condemned  by  the  State 
for  a  secular  offence." 

"  And  yet  you  say,  contessa,  that  you  agree 
with  me  in  believing  him  innocent." 

11  Innocent,  but  none  the  less  the  cause  of 
great  calamity  to  his  native  city,  and  the  trans- 


244  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

mitter  to  Ms  descendants  of  an  ineradicable 
curse.  I  have  sent  my  son  on  this  quest  with 
no  hope  of  any  success,  but  to  distract  his  mind 
and  for  another  reason.  I  fear  that  he  is  quite 
right  in  his  conclusion  that  no  Zanelli  since  the 
alchemist  had  or  has  any  right  to  marry. " 

"  I  understand  you,"  said  Van  with  profound 
respect  and  pity.  "  You  believe  that  Giovanni 
Zanelli  was  insane,  and  that  this  insanity  was 
hereditary  ?' ' 

The  contessa  bowed  silently. 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  Were  there  any 
other  members  of  the  family  who  were  indis- 
putably deranged  ?" 

"  I  am  not  so  conversant  with  the  family  his- 
tory as  I  could  wish.  My  husband  was  pecu- 
liarly reticent  on  this  point ;  but  from  what  I 
have  gathered,  the  Zanellis  were  all  more  or 
less  peculiar.  My  husband's  father,  as  I  have 
said,  was  what  we  would  call  to-day  a  crank  in 
his  vegetarian  and  other  humanitarian  theories. 
In  my  husband's  own  case  the  tendency  showed 
itself  only  mildly  in  a  melancholy  and  secre- 
tive disposition,  a  characteristic  which  I  have 
noticed  with  grave  solicitude  developing  in  my 
son." 


A  MODERN  ALCHEMIST.  245 

Van  looked  very  grave.  The  case  was  tak- 
ing on  new  bearings.  "  I  cannot  help  thinking 
you  are  wrong,"  he  said.  "This  diary,  as  I 
have  studied  it  so  far,  is  no,t  the  record  of  the 
workings  of  a  diseased  mind.  From  this  point 
on  it  contains  the  careful  noting  of  his  experi- 
ments. These  1  will  follow,  and  I  hope  soon 
to  be  able  to  prove  to  you  that  Dr.  Zanelli  was 
neither  a  criminal  nor  a  maniac,  but  a  man  who 
lived  three  centuries  too  soon  and  a  martyr  to 
science." 

"  In  the  mean  time  I  hope  to  hear  from  my 
husband's  aunt,  to  whom  I  have  written  for  en- 
lightenment, and  I  beg  you,  Dr.  Yan  Silva, 
to  conduct  your  researches  as  impartially  as 
though  your  friendship  for  us  did  not  bias  your 
wishes.  Remember  that  a  physician  must  often 
be  cruel  to  be  kind  ;  and  should  you  find  rea- 
son to  believe  that  my  apprehensions  are  well 
founded,  I  beg  you  to  induce  these  young  Amer- 
ican girls  to  leave  for  America  before  my  son's 
return.  I  am  sure  you  will  understand  me 
when  I  say  that  it  is  because  I  sincerely  love  the 
Signorita  Nellie  that  I  make  this  request. " 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


C.ESAR  BORGIA'S  REVENGE. 

"There  be  quick  poisons  and  slow  poisons — poisons  that 
strike  with  instant  death  so  soon  as  they  be  swallowed  ;  and 
poisons  whereby  the  victims  endure  a  thousand  deaths, 
dying  by  inches,  as  by  some  mysterious  disease.  And  these 
poisons  be  the  most  malignant,  not  only  because  they  who 
have  taken  them  suffer  longer,  but  because  in  their  lingering 
they  transmit  the  evil  of  their  effects  in  diseased  constitutions 
to  their  posterity,  so  that  one  may  strike  not  one's  enemy 
alone  but  his  remotest  descendant,  and  that  with  a  refinement 
of  cruelty  as  exquisite  as  its  workings  are  sure  and  subtle." — 
Old  Book  on  Toxicology. 

OUNT  ANGELO  had  been 
gone  some  weeks  before 
Tib  happened  to  think  of 
the  letters  in  Violante's 
possession  and  the  pos- 
sibility that  they  might  throw 
some  light  on  the  story  of  the 
old  alchemist.  This  possibility 
flashed  across  her  mind  one  day 
when  reading  a  history  of  the 
Italian  Renaissance  by  Symonds. 
He  gives  better  than  any  other 
author  the  historical  back- 
ground of  the  time  in  which  Dr.  Zanelli 
lived  ;  and  as  Tib  read  of  Titian,  of  Loo  X., 


C^SSAR  BORGIA'S  REVENGE.  247 

and  the  Borgias,  it  struck  her  that  Caesar 
Borgia's  name  had  been  mentioned  in  one  of 
the  letters,  and  she  determined  to  see  Yiolante 
at  once  and  ask  her  permission  to  translate 
them.  That  we  may  understand  these  letters 
as  Tib  did,  it  will  be  well  to  give  here  a  brief 
resume  of  the  lives  of  some  of  the  personages 
of  whom  she  had  been  reading,  referring  the 
reader  also  to  the  dates  given  in  the  preface  for 
a  complete  comprehension  of  the  succession  of 
events. 

It  was  the  time  of  the  Renaissance,  that  won- 
derful period  when  all  over  Italy  learning,  lit- 
erature, the  arts,  inventions,  discoveries,  new 
schemes  of  government  had  their  new  birth  ; 
and  it  was  an  era  of  great  wealth  and  luxury, 
when  nothing  seemed  impossible  to  accomplish 
to  men  of  genius  and  of  daring,  and  these  were 
everywhere  in  every  rank  and  profession. 

The  time  makes  the  man.  This  is  nowhere 
more  evident  than  in  a  consideration  of  the 
Popes.  Those  from  1447  to  1 527,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Renaissance,  were  luxurious,  selfish, 
unscrupulous ;  the  Popes  and  prominent  church- 
men who  followed  them  in  the  remainder  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  stimulated  by  the  great 


24P  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

reform  outside  the  Church,  while  uncom- 
promising opponents  of  Protestantism,  were 
themselves  active  reformers,  often  men  of 
saintly  lives,  self-denying  and  stern.  This  re- 
form within  the  Church  is  a  fact  of  which  Prot- 
estants are  apt  to  lose  sight.  Savonarola  was  a 
product  of  this  period,  a  protest  of  all  that  was 
sincere  in  the  Church  against  its  corruptions,  and 
no  saintlier  soul  ever  lived  than  Carlo  Borromeo. 
Do  you  remember  his  story  ?  Brought  up  in 
that  princely  ancestral  home  on  Isola  Bella,  in 
Lago  Maggiore,  his  soul  filled  full  with  the 
beautiful,  he  devoted  all  his  wealth,  his  superb 
scholarship,  his  life  to  God.  At  first  he  felt 
that  the  mission  of  his  life  was  to  build  the 
most  beautiful  cathedral  in  Italy,  and  as  Arch- 
bishop of  Milan  his  fortune,  his  influence,  and 
his  critical  taste  were  devoted  to  this  ambition. 
Urged  by  his  passion,  the  cathedral  shot  up  like 
a  lily — not  built  piecemeal  through  different 
ages,  but  with  all  the  coherence  of  one  guiding 
mind.  It  was  the  dream  of  his  life  k>  chant  the 
"  Now  lettest  Thou  Thy  servant  depart  in 
peace"  at  its  dedication.  Then  the  black 
plague  swept  down  upon  Italy,  and  the  dead 
and  dying  lay  in  the  streets  of  Milan.  Carlo 


BORGIA'S  REVENGE.  249 


Borromeo  took  the  funds  which  he  had  set  aside 
for  the  building  of  his  beloved  cathedral  and 
opened  hospitals,  organized  the  monks  into  a 
sanitary  commission  and  into  bands  of  nurses, 
and  himself  drove  about  the  fever-stricken 
streets  collecting  the  sick.  Under  his  energetic 
measures  the  plague  was  stayed,  but  as  its  last 
victim,  Carlo  Borromeo,  Archbishop  of  Milan, 
lay  dead.  In  a  jewelled  casket  in  the  crypt  of 
the  finished  cathedral,  whose  many-  statued  pin- 
nacles his  longing  eyes  never  saw,  they  buried 
the  man  who  loved  his  fellow-men  more  than 
the  dear  ambition  of  his  life,  or  than  life  itself, 
and  who  shall  deny  his  right  to  canonization  ? 

Even  the  men  whom  we  brand  as.  supporters 
of  the  Inquisition  were  many  of  them  sincere  in 
their  rigor,  seeking  to  cleanse  the  Church  of  its 
sins.  But  this  period  of  reform  was  the  swing 
of  the  pendulum  from  one  of  license.  Rodrigo 
Borgia,  who  in  1492  became  Pope  as  Alexander 
VI.,  is  a  type  of  the  worst  of  the  Popes  of  the 
Renaissance.  The  Borgias,  father  and  son,  are 
an  interesting  study.  So  expert  were  they  in 
poisoning  that  they  could 

"  Carry  pure  death  in  an  earring,  a  casket, 
A  signet,  a  fan  mount,  a  filigree  basket." 


250  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

At  Alexander's  election,  we  are  told  by  Sym- 
onds  how  shamelessly  the  cardinals'  votes  were 
bought.  The  Cardinal  Ascanio  Sforza  sold  his 
vote  for  the  lucrative  post  of  vice-chancellor  ; 
the  Orsini  for  the  Borgia  palaces  at  Rome,  to- 
gether with  two  castles  ;  Cardinal  Colonna  for 
the_abbey  of  Subiaco  ;  others  were  bought  with 
churches  and  bishoprics.  Less  influential  mem  - 
bers  sold  themselves  for  gold,  and  to  meet  their 
demands  the  Borgias  sent  Cardinal  Sforza  four 
mules  laden  with  coin  in  open  day.  The  fiery 
Cardinal  Giuliano  de  Rovere  (who  later  in 
life  himself  became  Pope  under  the  title  of 
Julius  II.)  remained  implacable  and  obdurate. 
He  defied  the  whole  brood  of  Borgias,  and  from 
this  time  always  wore  secret  armor.  He  and 
five  other  cardinals  alone  refused  to  sell  their 
votes,  but  the  majority  of  the  electoral  college 
were  corrupted,  and  Alexander  Borgia  was 
elected,  the  young  Cardinal  Giovanni  de  Medici 
(afterward  Leo  X.)  whispering,  on  the  an- 
nouncement, "  We  are  in  the  wolf's  jaws ; 
he  will  gulp  us  down  unless  we  make  our 
flight  good."  A  writer  of  the  day  says  he 
combined  craft  with  singulai  sagacity,  a 
sound  judgment  with  extraordinary  powers 


CAESAR  BORGIA'S  REVENGE,  251 

of  persuasion.  Symonds  asserts,  "  All  con- 
siderations of  religion  and  morality  were  sub- 
ordinated by  him  to  policy."  He  not  only 
sold  benefices,  but  murdered  the  holders  and 
sold  them  over  and  over  again. 

The  Venetian  ambassador  wrote  in  1500 : 
"  Evevy  night  they  find  in  Rome  four  or  five 
murdered  men,  bishops  and  prelates  and  so 
forth."  Three  cardinals  were  known  to  have 
been  poisoned  by  the  Pope.  Caesar  Borgia,  his 
son,  was  still  more  reckless,  and  caused  all  who 
opposed  him  to  be  assassinated  either  by  the 
stiletto  or  by  poison. 

To  show  the  general  spread  of  wickedness 
which  followed  those  illustrious  examples,  I 
quote  from  another  authority  : 

"  Italian  history  teems  with  instances  which 
sufficiently  show  that  poison  was  both  the 
favorite  weapon  of  the  oppressor  and  the  re- 
venge of  the  oppressed.  The  Borgias  are  gen- 
erally singled  out  and  held  up  to  the  horror 
and  detestation  of  mankind  ;  but  they  merely 
employed  this  method  of  destroying  their  ad- 
versaries a  little  more  frequently  than  their 
neighbors.  In  1648  it  was  found  that  young 
widows  were  extraordinarily  abundant  in 


252  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Rome,  and  that  most  of  the  unhappy  mar- 
riages were  speedily  dissolved  by  the  sickness 
and  death  of  the  husband  ;  and  further  in- 
quiries resulted  in  the  discovery  of  a  secret  so- 
ciety of  young  matrons  which  met  at  the  house 
of  an  old  hag,  by  name  Hieronyma  Spara,  a  re- 
pute 1  witch,  who  supplied~those  of  them  who 
wished  with  a  slow  poison,  clear,  tasteless,  and 
limpid,  and  of  strength  sufficient  to  destroy  life 
in  the  course  of  a  day,  week,  month,  or  number 
of  months,  as  the  purchaser  preferred.  Half  a 
century  later  the  discovery  was  made  of  a  sim- 
ilar organization  at  Naples,  headed  by  an  old 
woman  of  threescore  and  ten,  named  Toffania, 
who  manufactured  a  poison  similar  to  that  of 
La  Spara,  but  known  as  Aqua  Tofana.  After 
having  caused  the  death  of  more  than  six  hun- 
dred persons,  Toffania  was  seized,  tried,  and 
strangled. v 

Lucrezia  Borgia  was  for  a  long  time  consid- 
ered equally  criminal,  but  is  now  believed  to 
have  been  innocent  of  the  crimes  imputed  to 
her.  For  eleven  years  the  Pope  Alexander  and 
his  son  rioted  in  wickedness,  and  then  both  ac- 
cidentally drank  poisoned  wine  prepared  for 
the  Cardinal  of  Corneto.  The  Pope  died,  and 


CAESAR  BOKGIA'S  REVENGE.  253 

though  Caesar  Borgia  recovered,  his  enemies 
concerted  means  for  his  downfall. 

Pope  Julius  II.,  though  utterly  worldly,  was 
a  stronger  temporal  prince  than  any  of  his  pred- 
ecessors, and  he  left  the  papacy  enriched  and 
strengthened.  Leo  X.,  who  succeeded  Julius 
in  1513,  was  the  second  son  of  Lorenzo  the  Mag- 
nificent. He  was  thoroughly  a  Medici  and  a 
product  of  the  Renaissance.  When  he  was 
made  Pope  he  said  to  the  Duke  of  Nemours, 
"  Let  us  enjoy  the  papacy,  since  God  has  given 
it  to  us."  This  was  the  keynote  of  his  pontifi- 
cate ;  masks  and  balls,  comedies  and  carnival 
processions  filled  the  streets  of  Rome.  He  is 
praised  as  a  princely  patron  of  art,  but  he  was 
ruinously  extravagant.  Julius  had  left  seven 
hundred  thousand  ducats  in  the  coffers  of  St. 
Angelo,  and  the  creation  of  thirty-nine  cardi- 
nals in  1517  brought  it  above  five  hundred  thou- 
sand more,  yet  the  bankers  and  cardinals  of 
Rome  were  half  ruined  by  loans  which  Leo  X. 
extorted  from  them  ;  and  when  he  died  the  very 
jewels  of  his  tiara  were  pledged  to  pay  his 
debts.  He  lived  joyously,  but  he  was  a  scholar 
and  the  friend  of  scholars.  A  wily  statesman, 
he  was  able  to  make  both  Francis  I.  and 


254  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Charles  V.  his  tools,  and  to  work  the  ruin 
both  of  the  dauntless  Savonarola  and  of  the 
republic  which  the  reforming  monk  had  estab- 
lished in  Florence,  and  to  re-establish  his  exiled 
family  in  their  power.  A  time-server,  he  saw 
that  the  feeling  of  the  people  was  setting  to- 
ward a  sterner  doctrine,  and  so,  while  utterly 
irreligious  himself,  he  gave  his  sanction  to  the 
Inquisition. 

Bearing  in  mind  that  the  old  alchemist  is  sup- 
posed to  have  lived  through  the  pontificates  of 
Alexander  Borgia  and  Julius  II.,  and  to  have 
been  executed  in  that  of  Leo  X.,  and  that  the 
visitation  of  the  plague  during  which  he  made 
his  experiments  was  that  of  1511,  when  Gior- 
gione  died,  we  will  take  up  the  letters  which 
Tib  found  waiting  for  her  translation. 

ORAZIO'S  FIRST  LETTER. 

To  the  Illustrious  Signorita  Violante  Palma. 

HONORED  LADY  :  I  write  touching  a  matter 
concerning  which  you  asked  me,  when  you 
were  doing  my  father  the  honor  to  pose  for  him 
in  his  studio  (but  which  I  could  not  expound 
in  detail  at  that  time,  owing  to  the  presence  of 
persons  upon  whose  discretion  I  could  not 


CAESAR  BORGIA'S  REVENGE.  255' 

count)— namely,  the  unjust  trials  and  murder- 
ous death  (albeit  the  former  were  carried  on  by 
the  Holy  Office  and  the  latter  executed  by  our 
State  of  Venice)  of  our  mutual  friend  and  my 
revered  instructor,  Dr.  Zanelli. 

You  will  remember  that  at  the  peril  of  my 
life  I  testified  in  his  favor,  clearing  him,  at  his 
first  trial,  of  one  of  the  charges  preferred 
against  him — namely,  that  of  concocting  the  in- 
famous Borgia  poison.  For  at  the  time  of  the 
visit  of  that  wicked  prince  Csesar  Borgia  to 
Venice,  when  he  sat  to  my  father  for  his  por- 
trait, though  I  was  then  but  a  stripling,  I  had 
already  begun  mr  novitiate  as  a  student  of 
alchemy  with  Dr.  Zanelli,  and  we  were  then 
studying  the  nature  of  poisons  and  their  anti- 
dotes. It  was  open  scandal  that  the  Borgias 
were  expert  poisoners,  having  in  their  posses- 
sion a  most  deadly  drug,  of  whose  nature 
nothing  was  clearly  known  except  that  no 
chemist  had  been  able  to  invent  a  test  for  its 
presence  or  an  antidote  which  could  counter- 
act its  effects.  My  good  and  wise  master  was 
much  interested  in  this  matter,  and  I  have 
heard  him  declare  that  if  he  could  submit 
this  subtle  poison  to  certain  tests  in  his  lab- 


256  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

oratory  he  could  accomplish  both  of  these 
much-to-be-desired  objects. 

Therefore,  when  Caesar  Borgia  visited  Venice, 
and  came  each  day  to  my  father's  studio,  I  was 
possessed  with  a  fascination  which  kept  me  in 
his  presence.  This  fascination  had  nothing  of 
love  in  it,  for  I  felt  from  the  first  time  I  beheld 
him  that  here  was  an  evil  and  a  dangerous 
man  ;  but  I  brooded  over  my  master's  desire  to 
possess  himself  of  the  Borgia  poison,  and  I 
longed  for  some  opportunity  to  rifle  his  pockets, 
when  perchance  he  should  be  bathing  at  the 
Lido  or  overcome  with  wine  after  a  banquet, 
for  I  doubted  not  that,  serpent  as  he  was,  he 
carried  his  venom  always  with  him,  and  that  if 
I  watched  I  should  espy  it.  And  this,  indeed, 
happened,  but  not  in  such  guise  as  I  had  fig- 
ured to  myself. 

My  father  had  one  of  the  marvellous  talking 
birds,  a  descendant  of  those  which  Marco  Polo 
brought  from  the  Indies.  He  kept  it  in  his 
studio,  not  because  he  delighted  in  its  song  or 
speech,  for  in  the  former  accomplishment  it 
possessed  no  skill  whatever,  and  in  the  latter  it 
had  been  bred  up  by  malicious  people  who  had 
taught  it  to  blaspheme  and  to  call  evil  names  ; 


BORGIA'S  REVENGE.  257 


but  it  was  a  bird  of  such  gorgeous  and  wonder- 
ful plumage—  red,  yellow,  blue,  and  green—  that 
my  father  took  pleasure  in  its  color,  and  had 
chained  it  to  a  perch,  from  whence  it  would 
swear  and  vituperate  to  its  heart's  content. 
This  scandal-causing  fowl  had  no  respect  for 
dignitaries,  for  I  have  heard  it  blaspheme  in 
the  presence  of  Cardinal  Bembo.  and  call  the 
doge  a  prating  fool.  When  Caesar  Borgia  first 
entered  the  studio  it  flew  into  a  fury,  ruffling 
its  feathers  and  shrieking  out  its  entire  vocabu- 
lary of  objurgation,  in  which  were  the  words 
murderer,  assassin,  and  parricide.  The  prince 
turned  white  at  that  last  word  (though  his  fa- 
ther was  then  living)  and  drew  his  sword  ;  but 
my  father  restrained  him,  explaining  that  the 
witless  creature  had  no  knowledge  of  the  sense 
of  the  words  it  uttered.  But  though  the  prince 
laughed,  I  could  see  that  he  thought  the  jest  a 
sorry  one,  and  that  he  hated  the  parrot  and 
would  willingly  have  done  it  a  mischief.  There- 
fore, I  could  scarce  believe  my  eyes  the  next 
morning  when,  entering  the  studio  before  my 
father,  I  saw  the  prince  feeding  the  bird  with 
comfits.  But  I  understood  better  the  meaning 
of  this  largess  when,  an  hour  later,  the  unhappy 


258  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

parrot  dropped  dead  from  its  perch.  My  fa- 
ther was  distressed,  but  the  prince  smiled  sar- 
donically and  said  that  doubtless  the  creature 
had  died  of  too  much  talking,  and  that  he  had 
kncvvn  many  men  to  die  from  the  same  cause. 

After  Caesar  Borgia  had  left  the  studio  I  care- 
fully examined  the  parrot's  feeding-trough,  and 
found  therein  several  small  round  comfits,  like 
beads,  which  the  prince  had  doubtless  placed 
there.  These  I  gathered  up  with  care  and  took 
to  Dr.  Zanelli,  telling  him  the  entire  story.  I 
have  never  seen  my  master  so  happy  or  so  ex- 
cited ;  he  embraced  me,  bade  me  keep  the  secret 
well,  and  told  me  that  I  had  furnished  him 
with  the  means  of  baffling  many  evil  designs, 
which  baffling  he  indeed  accomplished,  and  in 
this  way  : 

Dr.  Zanelli  had  a  friend  in  the  director  of  the 
glass-works  at  Murano,  and  for  him  shortly 
after  this  he  invented  a  species  of  glass  contain- 
ing a  chemical  so  sensitive  that  the  acrid  poison 
would  disintegrate  it,  and  the  glass  so  wrought 
upon  would  fly  into  fragments  ;  and  the  doctor 
went  often  to  Murano  to  drop  into  the  molten 
glass  the  chemicals  which  should  give  it  this 
wonderful  quality.  About  the  same  time  he 


CAESAR  BORGIA'S  REVENGE.  25? 

perfected  the  invention  of  an  antidote,  and  this 
and  the  glasses  were  sold  in  Rome,  but  were  not 
publicly  offered  for  sale  in  Venice,  as  there  was 
no  market  for  them,  there  being  no  one  here 
who  had  cause  to  fear  the  malice  of  the  Bor- 
gias — no  one  but  my  dear  master  himself  ;  for 
it  soon  happened  that  Csesar  Borgia,  having 
prepared  a  posset  for  Giuliano.de  Rovere,  whom 
he  knew  to  be  his  father's  enemy  and  the  can- 
didate for  the  papacy  of  the  party  which  op- 
posed the  Borgias,  had  the  mortification  to  see 
De  Rovere  drop  into  the  posset  a  small  glass 
bead,  and  when  it  presently  melted,  as  though 
it  had  been  sugar,  he  spilled  the  wine  upon  the 
floor,  declaring  that  it  was  poisoned,  and  he 
would  have  none  of  it.  Whereupon  the  prince 
knew  that  he  was  foiled  ;  and  causing  his  spies 
to  search,  he  speedily  ascertained  that  Dr.  Za- 
nelli  of  Venice  was  possessed  of  the  secret  of 
thwarting  their  malice  ;  whereupon  they  vented 
it  upon  his  head,  but  not  by  the  means  of 
poison,  knowing  that  he  possessed  both  test 
and  antidote.  But  the  prince's  father,  Pope 
Alexander  Borgia,  himself  wrote  to  the  In- 
quisitor a*  Venice,  telling  him  to  look  to  Dr. 
Zanelli  as  one  who  knew  too  much  concerning 


260       WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

x 

poisons.  That  the  bloodhounds  were  put  upon 
the  track  of  my  good  master  in  this  manner 
was  not  known  at  the  first  trial,  but  afterward 
was  explained  by  Cardinal  Bembo,  who  had 
the  story  from  De  Rovere,  after  he  became  Pope 
Julius,  and  who  so  answered  the  charge  w^hen 
Dr.  Zanelli  was  brought  a  second  time  before 
the  court. 

But,  as  I  have  said,  at  this  first  trial,  when, 
strange  to  say,  the  only  charge  preferred  was 
that  he  had  concocted  poison,  I  brought  him 
safely  off,  testifying  what  I  have  related  to 
you,  and  that  my  dear  master's  endeavor  had 
always  been  to  frustrate  the  evil  designs  of  that 
wicked  man,  Caesar  Borgia.  I  showed  one  of 
the  comfits — which  by  good  fortune  I  had 
preserved — and  I  testified  how  I  had  seen  Caesar 
Borgia  give  it  with  others  to  our  parrot,  and  how 
the  creature  had  immediately  died  ;  I  fetched 
the  director  from  Murano  also,  who  brought 
one  of  the  test  goblets  and  some  test  beads 
which  Dr.  Zanelli  had  made,  and  their  efficacy 
was  proved  in  court ;  for  we  dissolved  the  com- 
fit in  soup,  and  causing  a  dog  to  lap  it,  it  died 
as  the  parrot  had  done  ;  and  then  putting  one 
of  the  glass  beads  in  the  liquor  it  melted,  and 


CAESAR  BORGIA'S  REVENGE.  261 

pouring  more  into  the  glass  it  shivered,  though 
water,  wine,  and  other  liquids  had  made  no  im- 
pression upon  it. 

Thus  we  proved  triumphantly  that  Dr.  Za- 
nelli  had  invented  a  test  of  the  Borgia  poison, 
and  the  inference  was  (the  charge  of  poisoning 
Ibeing  preferred  by  the  Pope),  that  it  was  the 
revenge  of  himself  and  his  son.  But  though 
Dr.  Zanelli  was  acquitted  at  this  time,  there  re- 
mained, alas  !  a  vague  and  unreasonable  idea  in 
the  minds  of,  the  judges  that  his  knowledge  of 
the  composition  of  the  poison,  as  proved  by  his 
power  to  detect  and  counteract  it,  might  have 
been  due  to  his  having  been  its  original  framer, 
and  that  the  Pope's  knowledge  of  Dr.  Zanelli 
had  been  gained  in  this  way,  and  his  charge, 
though  reflecting  no  credit  upon  himself, 
was  still  a  true  one. 

But  Csesar  Borgia,  perceiving  that  he  had 
gained  shame  instead  of  the  revenge  he  sought, 
was  not  content  to  rest  the  matter  there,  but — 
as  I  confidently  believe,  though  am  not  able  to 
certify— caused  my  master  to  be  spied  upon  by 
his  minions  ;  and  having  ascertained  in  what 
manner  he  could  be  most  easily  attacked,  in- 
vented a  new  and  more  diabolical  charge,  and 


262  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

lodged  the  same  with  the  Holy  Office,  accusing 
my  dear  master  this  time  of  having  introduced 
the  plague  into  Venice,  being  bribed  thereto  by 
the  Sultan  of  Turkey. 

.  What  gave  color  to  this  suspicion  was  the 
fact  that  my  master,  during  the  last  visitation 
of  the  plague,  had  treated  his  patients  in  a  new 
and  daring  manner,  being  attended  only  by  his 
disciple,  a  wealthy  Greek  named  Chrysolarus, 
who  had  come  from  Constantinople  to  study 
with  him.  This  foreigner  very  foolishly  made 
a  great  show  of  his  riches,  indulging  in  all  sorts 
of  extravagances.  Out  of  gratitude  to  our  mas- 
ter, he  presented  him  with  a  cimeter  made  in 
Damascus,  which  was  produced  in  evidence 
against  Dr.  Zanelli  at  his  trial  as  a  gift  from 
the  Sultan.  Nor  was  this  dastardly  man 
there  to  explain,  for  on  the  arrest  of  our  mas- 
ter he  fled  for  his  life,  when,  had  he  remain- 
ed, he  might  have  cleared  our  dear  friend 
by  showing  that  the  transfusion  of  blood 
"wnich  he  had  practised  had  effected  the  cure 
of  all  his  patients.  And  he  alone  cculd  have 
done  this,  for  he  was  the  most  advanced  of 
all  of  Dr.  Zanelli' s  disciples,  and  the  only 
one  to  whom  this  marvellous  secret  had  been 


BORGIA'S  REVENGE. 


confided.  The  craven  had  indeed  good  reason 
to  fear  that  his  testimony  would  not  be  received, 
and  that  he  also  would  fall  under  the  ban  of 
the  Church  ;  but  this  in  no  wise  excused  him. 
Howbeit,  by  a  merciful  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence, Pope  Alexander  died  just  at  this  time, 
and  his  son  fell  into  disgrace,  so  that  there  was 
a  change  in  all  matters  connected  with  the 
Church  ;  for  now  Giuliano  de  Rovere  was  Pope, 
and  there  was  a  new  Inquisitor,  who  reported 
the  causes  waitjng  for  decision  to  his  Holiness  ; 
and  Pope  Julius  sent  Cardinal  Bembo  to  Yen- 
ice,  who  told  the  cause  of  Csesar  Borgia's  hatred 
of  Dr.  Zanelli,  and  the  Pope  ordered  a  stay  in 
the  proceeding  ;  so  that  during  his  pontificate 
the  matter  was  not  brought  up,  and  Dr.  Zanelli 
and  his  friends  took  comfort,  thinking  it  was 
ended.  But  later  Pope  Julius  dying  and  Leo 
X.  succeeding  to  the  papacy,  he  sought  to  curry 
favor  with  those  of  a  sterner  sort  by  fanning 
the  flames  of  the  Inquisition,  and  the  old  charges 
were  brought  forward  again,  and  many  people 
were  burned  in  towns  round  about  us.  Then 
we  saw  how  unfortunate  it  was  that  Dr.  Zanelli 
had  not  been  brought  to  trial  in  the  pontificate 
of  Julius,  who  was  his  friend  (for  he  owed  his 


264  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

life  to  the  doctor's  invention),  so  ending  the 
matter,  instead  of  laying  it  upon  the  table  to 
be  brought  up  when  he  could  no  longer  protect 
him.  Cardinal  Bembo  did  his  best  for  Mm,  as, 
indeed,  always  (for  he  testified  in  the  matter  of 
the  book  of  Pomponazio — which  asserted  that 
the  immortality  of  the  soul  could  not  be 
proved,  which  book  the  patriarch  of  Venice 
burned  publicly  as  heretical — that  he  had  read 
the  book  with  pleasure  and  found  it  perfectly 
conformable).  Cardinal  Bembo,  I  say,  took 
his  part,  as  he  ever  did  that  of  the  accused  ; 
but  he  could  not  prove  the  finger  of  Caesar  Bor- 
gia in  this  second  plot,  he  being  so  long  dead, 
and  the  poison  of  his  which  he  had  prepared 
being  of  such  slow  effect  that  it  seemed  incredi- 
ble that  he  was  the  author  of  it.  Moreover, 
the  affair  was  judged  not  by  the  Church  alone, 
but  by  the  Council  of  Ten  as  well ;  and  here 
lay  the  chief  danger  to  the  doctor  ;  for  while  in 
matters  of  heresy  the  Signoria  did  not  concern 
itself,  and  would  willingly  have  left  all  to  the 
opinion  of  Cardinal  Bembo,  and  have  protected 
one  of  its  citizens  against  the  severity  of  the 
Church,  when,  on  the  contrary,  the  safety  of 


CAESAR  BORGIA'S  REVENOE.  265 

many  citizens  was  concerned,  and  their  death 
aimed  at  by  a  foreign  enemy,  here  was  matter 
of  State  importance,  to  be  judged  and  punished 
by  the  State.  And  so  our  dear  master  was 
judged  and  suffered,  being  strangled  by  the 
civil  arm  and  his  body  burned  by  the  Inquisi- 
tion. But  one  man  could  have  saved  our  mas- 
ter, and  that  was  Chrysolarus,  and  proclama- 
tion was  made  for  him  by  the  State  ;  but  he 
came  not. 

This,  then,  is  a  record  of  the  secret  causes 
which  wrought,  his  condemnation.  I  cannot 
but  regard  it  as  a  blessing  that  his  wife,  dear 
lady,  had  died  before  these  cruel  events.  He 
left  but  one  son,  a  lad  who  had  not  the  horror 
of  seeing  his  father' s  body  burned ;  for  after 
taking  leave  of  Dr.  Zanelli  in  prison,  after  his 
condemnation,  this  son  was  hurried  out  of  the 
city  by  friends  of  the  family,  but  by  whom  I 
know  not ;  and  they  fearing  the  continued  rage 
of  his  enemies,  have  so  successfully  concealed 
his  hiding-place  that  we  have  never  been  able 
to  find  any  trace  of  him.  All  this  I  have 
written  out  for  you,  sweet  lady,  knowing  your 
gratitude  for  our  dear  master,  who  cured  you 


266  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

during  the  plague,  and  would  have  healed  your 
beloved  Giorgione  had  he  been  permitted  ;  and 

so  I  rest, 

Your  faithful  servitor, 

ORAZIO  VECELLI, 


CHAPTER   XV. 


SHREDS   AjSTD   PATCHES. 

FTER  all,  though  Orazio's 
letter  had  given  a  clearer 
picture  of  the  prog- 
ress of  the  trial  or 
trials  than  the  rec- 
ord which  the    Inquisitor 
had  published,  it  had  proved 
nothing  new  excepting  the 
existence  of  a  powerful  en- 
emy. 

Van,  who  had  finished 
his  translation  of  the  diary, 
was  also  obliged  to  confess  that  his  study 
had  developed  nothing  in  regard  to  Dr.  Za- 
nelli's  treatment  of  his  plague-smitten  patients, 
though  it  threw  some  interesting  side-lights  on 
Venetian  society  of  that  period.  He  spoke  of 
the  charming  reunions  at  Titian's  house,  and 
of  the  many  illustrious  people  whom  he  met 


268  WITCH   WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

there— most  lovingly  of  Sansovino,  and  admir- 
ingly of  his  sculpture,  especially  the  door  of  the 
sacristy  of  St.  Mark's,  in  which  he  introduced 
the  portrait  of  Titian  and  other  friends.  He 
praised  most  his  library  and  the  mint,  which 
Sansovino's  son  described  as  "a  notable  edifice, 
all  interwoven  within  and  without  of  cut  stone, 
bricks,  and  iron,  without  so  much  as  a  foot  of 
wood,  so  that  for  strength  and  for  being  fire- 
proof there  is  none  other  which  can  compare 
with  it."  The  only  man  of  whom  he  spoke 
with  dislike  was  Pietro  Aretinc,  a  comic  poet 
of  the  day,  who  satirized  every  one  with  a 
scurrilous  wit,  which  was  often  past  endur- 
ance. He  related  that  Tintoretto,  finding  his 
sarcasms  not  at  all  to  his  taste,  invited  the 
satirist  to  come  to  his  studio,  and  when  he  had 
him  safely  within  the  apartment  began  to  play 
in  a  menacing  manner  with  a  long  pistol  or 
arquebus. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  Aretino  asked  in 
alarm. 

"I  arn  measuring  you,"  Tintoretto  replied, 
"  and  I  want  you  to  remember  that  your  height 
is  exactly  three  lengths  of  my  pistol." 

Aretino  took  the  hint  and  never  afterward 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  269 

caricatured  Tintoretto.  Aretino's  epitaph jvas 
written  in  Latin  during  his  lifetime  by  an  ac- 
quaintance, and  has  been  well  translated  by 
Mr.  F.  B.  Sanborn  : 

"  Old  Time,  that  all  things  will  devour, 
Beneath  this  stone  has  hid  the  head] 

Of  Aretine,  whose  verses  sour 
Spared  not  the  living  or  the  dead. 

His  ink  has  blackened  the  good  name 

Of  princes,  whose  enduring  fame 

Survived  the  coffin  and  the  pall. 
And  if  he  never  did  blaspheme 
Our  Lord  Himself,  the  cause,  I  ween, 

"Was  this  :  he  knew  Him  not  at  all." 

Tib  assisted  Yan  in  his  translations.  She 
grew  very  much  interested  in  the  old  alchemist, 
though  she  had  no  idea  how  closely  his  fate 
was  interwoven  with  her  own.  She  had,  as  we 
know,  a  facility  for  rhyming,  and  after  poring 
for  an  afternoon  over  the  old  record,  she  threw 
her  impressions  into  the  following  verses  : 

AN  AFTERNOON  WITH  TITIAN. 

They  are  gone,  those  days  Elysian, 
In  the  studio  of  Titian, 
In  the  garden  by  the  water, 
Where  the  painter's  peerless  daughter 
Listened  to  her  lover's  suit. 


270  WITCH  WINNIE  IN   VENICE. 

Kindly  smiled  old  Sansovino. 
Scoffed  the  witty  Aretino, 
Bitter  wit  like  grapes  from  lava, 
While  Lavuiia's  lifted  salver 
Passed  the  luscious,  ripened  fruit. 

Many  a  noble,  grand  Venetian 
Graced  the  garden  fetes  of  Titian. 
While  she  posed,  his  Violante, 
Bembo  sang  the  songs  of  Dante, 
And  Orazio  touched  the  lute. 

Who  could  choose  but  to  adore  her  ? 
When  he  painted  her  as  Flora 
Aretino  ceased  his  story, 
Struck  with  beauty's  charm  and  glory, 
And  the  singers  all  were  mute. 

Tib  explained  that  she  was  not  sure  that  Car- 
dinal Bembo  really  sang  ;  but  he  doubtless  re- 
cited the  sonnets  of  Dante  and  Petrarch,  for  he 
edited  editions  of  their  works,  which  were  pub- 
lished in  Venice  by  the  celebrated  printer 
Aldus,  as  well  as  his  own  canzonets  and  dis- 
quisitions on  love,  over-gay  and  light  for  a  car- 
dinal and  the  keeper  of  St.  Mark's  Library,  ~md 
more  befitting  the  time  when,  as  secretary  to 
Cateriiia  Cornaro,  he  led  the  amusements  of  her 
merry,  mimic  court  at  Asola,  near  Venice,  or 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  271 

dedicate^,  nis  poem  on  "  Platonic  Love"  to  his 
patroness,  Lucrezia  Borgia. 

"As  I  read  his  character,"  said  Winnie, 
"  Bembo  was  a  man  of  an  easy  conscience,  such 
as  Browning  describes : 

" '  Sworn  fast  to  tonsured  pate,  plain  heaven's  celibate, 
And  yet  earth's  clear  accepted  servitor, 
And  fit  companion  for  the  like  of  you, 
Yon  gay  Abati  with  the  well-turned  leg, 
And  rose  i'  the  hat-rim,  canon's  cross  at  neck, 
And  silk  mask  in  the  pocket  of  the  gown.' 

But  he  was  not  a  murderer  and  poisoner  like 
the  Borgias  ;  he  was  simply  too  luxurious,  like 
the  Medici." 

"  The  Medicis  were  not  so  very  far  behind  the 
Borgias  in  the  gentle  art  of  poisoning,"  Tib  re- 
plied. "  Do  you  remember  the  old  Capello 
Palace  that  we  passed  the  other  day  on  the  St. 
Apollinares  Canal  ?  I  have  just  looked  up  the 
history  of  the  romantic  daughter  of  the  house, 
Bianca  da  Capello.  She  eloped  in  1548  with  a 
Florentine  banker,  Pietro  Bonaventuri,  and  for 
that  rash  act  was  placed  under  the  ban  of  the 
republic.  But  Bonaventuri  died,  and  the 
young  widow  married  Duk&  Cosimo,  De 
Medici's  son,  and  became  Grand  Duchess  of 


272  WITCH  WINNIE  IX   VENICE, 

Tuscany,  whereupon  the  Signoria  removed  the 
ban  and  declared  her  its  own  specially  beloved 
daughter.  She  could  not  have  the  bucentaur 
take  her  to  church,  as  she  might  have  had  under 
similar  circumstances  in  Venice,  but  she  would 
have  a  spectacular  wedding  procession.  So  she 
had  a  gilded  chariot  constructed,  which  must 
have  looked  like  a  Barnum  band  wagon,  and 
further  heightened  the  '  greatest-show-on-earth  ' 
effect  by  writing  to  the  Pope,  who  was  a  cousin 
of  her  husband's,  to  send  her  some  lions  to 
draw  them." 

11  What  a  festive  young  lady !"  said  Winnie. 
"  Bid  she  do  anything  else  particularly  interest- 
ing r 

"  1  was  not  impressed  by  anything  in  her 
after-history  excepting  her  death.  It  was  a 
pity  that  she  did  not  carry  one  of  Dr.  Zanelli's 
poison- test  goblets  with  her  when  she  left  Ven- 
ice, for  both  she  and  her  husband  died,  poi- 
soned, it  is  thought,  by  Cardinal  Francesco  de 
Medici." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Van,  "whether  your  fair 
Venetian  is  the  Medicean  archduchess  of  whom 
Story  speaks  as  having  been  poisoned  in  his 
description  of  the  examination  of  the  coffins  in 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  273 

the  Medici  Chapel  ?  No,  it  was  still  another  ; 
but  listen  to  his  account.  The  same  thing 
might  have  been  said  as  truly  of  Bianca.  He 
describes  iirst  the  magnificence  of  the  chapel. 
Its  cost  was  about  live  million  dollars.  Michael 
Angelo's  colossal  statues  were  intended  only  as 
adjuncts. 

"  '  All  that  wealth  and  taste  could  do  has 
been  done  to  celebrate  and  perpetuate  the  mem- 
ory of  those  royal  dukes  that  reigned  over 
Florence  in  its  prosperous  days.  But  what  of 
the  princely  personages  themselves !  Their 
bodies  had  been  placed  in  the  subterranean 
vaults  of  this  chapel.  In  1818  there  had  been, 
a  rumor  that  these  Medicean  coffins  had  been 
violated  and  robbed.  An  examination  was 
made.  Dark,  parchment-like  faces  were  seen 
with  their  golden  locks  as  rich  as  ever  and 
twisted  with  gems  and  pearls  and  costly  nets. 
The  cardinal-princes  still  wore  their  mitres  and 
red  cloaks,  their  glittering  rings,  their  crosses 
of  white  enamel,  their  jacinths  and  amethysts 
and  sapphires — all  had  survived  their  priestly 
selves.  Giovanni  delle  Bande  Nere  was  here, 
his  battles  all  over,  his  bones  scattered  and 
loose  within  his  iron  armor,  and  his  rusted  hel- 


274  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

met  with  his  visor  down.  The  two  bodies  which 
were  found  in  best  preservation  were  those  of 
the  Grand  Duchess  Giovanna  of  Austria  and 
her  daughter  Anna.  Corruption  had  scarcely 
touched  them  ;  and  there  they  lay  as  if  they 
had  just  died — the  mother  in  red  satin  trimmed 
with  lace,  her  red  silk  stockings  and  high- 
heeled  shoes,  the  earrings  hanging  from  her 
ears,  and  her  blonde  hair  fresh  as  ever.  And 
so,  after  centuries  had  passed,  the  truth  became 
evident  of  the  rumor  that  ran  through  Florence 
at  the  time  of  their  death  that  they  had  died  of 
poison.  The  arsenic  which  had  taken  their 
lives  had  preserved  their  bodies  in  death.'  ' 

Dr.  Zanelli's  diary  was  not  entirely  devoted 
to  observations  on  men  and  society.  Van  read 
them  several  pages  which  stated  his  aims  as  a 
physician  and  his  views  on  what  he  considered 
the  legitimate  practice  of  his  profession  and  the 
scope  of  medical  science.  This  part  of  the  diary 
seemed  to  Van  a  curious  mixture  of  the  super- 
stition of  the  time  and  the  daring  of  the  orig- 
inal investigator,  who,  in  his  gropings,  almost 
anticipated  some  of  the  discoveries  of  modern 
science. 

"  I  have  studied,"  wrote  Dr.  Zanelli,  "  magic, 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  275 

alchemy,  chirurgery,  and  astrology.  The  last 
has  the  elements  of  a  great  science  wrapped  up 
in  it,  but  it  is  more  adapted  for  the  mathemati- 
cian than  the  physician.  It  may  develop  new 
discoveries  in  the  geography  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  so  that  we  may  in  time  receive  messages 
from  their  inhabitants  or  even  journey  to  distant 
worlds.  But  I  am  convinced  that  astrology  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  curing  of  disease  or  even, 
as  is  now  firmly  believed,  any  utility  in  fore- 
telling the  death  of  man  ;  therefore  I  have  aban- 
doned the  study.  Magic  I  hold  to  have  a  place 
in  the  education  and  practice  of  the  physician,  for 
magic  has  to  do  with  rnind,  and  the  operations 
of  the  mind  do  most  sensibly  affect  bodily  health. 
While  a  student  at  the  university  at  Padua,  it 
was  my  good  fortune  to  attend  a  course  of  lec- 
tures by  the  learned  Professor  Theophrastus 
Bombast,  who  takes  a  new  view  of  magic,  and 
is  himself  a  magician  of  great  power.  By  him 
I  was  initiated  into  this  great  secret  of  the  sci- 
ence. '  The  exercise  of  magic  does  not  require 
any  ceremonies  or  conjurations,  or  the  making 
of  circles  or  signs  ;  it  requires  neither  benedic- 
tions nor  maledictions  in  words  ;  it  requires 
only  a  strong  faith.  By  faith,  imagination, 


276  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

and  will  we  may  accomplish  whatever  we  may 
desire.  By  the  power  of  faith  the  apostles  ac- 
complished great  things,  and  saints  performed 
their  miracles  by  the  power  of  faith.  A  dead 
saint  cannot  cure  anybody.'  Thus  much  said 
my  teacher  ;  and  yet  have  I  known  the  sick 
really  cured  by  the  means  of  relics.  The  kiss- 
ing of  a  bone  of  a  saint— nay,  even  a  bone  that 
purported  merely  to  be  that  of  a  saint,  while  the 
wicked  custodian  told  me  that  it  was  in  reality 
that  of  a  dog.  Here  the  cure  was  due  to  the 
faith  or  the  imagination  of  the  subject,  and  not 
to  the  efficacy  of  the  relic,  and  was,  therefore, 
not  a  divine  miracle,  but  a  phenomena  of  magic. 
Therefore  do  I  hold  that  magic  is  a  legitimate 
study  for  the  physician  ;  and  this  science  have 
I  reserved  to  myself  for  future  investigation. 
Its  greatest  adepts  are  the  Hindoo  Buddhists  ; 
and  it  is  my  intention  some  day  to  travel  to  the 
far  Orient,  and  there  devote  myself  to  the  study 
of  occultism  and  the  cure  of  bodily  diseases  by 
the  operations  of  the  mind.  Meantime,  and 
until  I  can  give  myself  the  privilege  of  study- 
ing the  Hindoo  sages,  I  have  made  myself  ac- 
complished as  an  alchemist,  and  shall  seek  by 
observation  and  experiment  to  make  new  dis- 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  277 

coveries  in  this  art.  I  have  learned  all  that  the 
science  of  those  that  have  gone  before  can  tell 
me,  and  notably  much  from  the  Arabian  al- 
chemists in  their  universities  at  Toledo  and 
Cordova  in  Spain  ;  but  yet  I  am  convinced  that 
there  is  much  more  to  be  invented  in  the  true 
use  of  alchemy  for  the  physician,  which  is  not 
the  search  for  the  philosopher's  stone  to  turn 
all  metal  to  gold,  but  to  find  new  chemicals 
which  can  be  used  as  remedies  for  disease.  The 
action  of  minerals  upon  the  human  frame,  in 
their  noxious  forms,  has  already  been  proved 
in  the  many  poisons  in  use  at  the  present  day, 
poisons  which,  many  of  them,  have  an  entirely 
opposite  effect ;  therefore  I  am  convinced  that 
certain  ones  may  be  used  as  antidotes  for  others, 
and  this  action  of  poisons  I  am  studying  in  a 
careful  series  of  original  experiments.  And  as 
healing  may  be  effected  not  only  by  dosing  of 
medicaments,  both  of  minerals  and  simples, 
bat  also  by  chirurgery,  through  operations  of 
the  knife,  and  through  the  blood,  both  by  the 
letting  of  it,  as  in  bleeding  for  fevers,  and 
equally  by  the  skilful  staunching  of  wounds, 
and  also  wonderfully  by  the  injection  of  medica- 
ments into  the  blood  ;  therefore,  I  have  rendered 


278  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

myself  an  expert  chirurgeon.  I  am  studying 
especially  the  blood,  both  by  my  own  experi- 
ments with  animals,  and  by  gathering  such 
data  as  1  can  from  barbers,  soldiers,  huntsmen, 
headsmen,  shepherds,  and  slaughterers  of  ani- 
mals, believing  that  it  is  by  observation  and 
experiment  rather  than  by  following  old  fables 
that  we  arrive  at  knowledge.  These,  then,  be 
the  reasons  why  I  reject  the  title  of  astrologer 
and  claim  those  of  chirurgeon  and  alchemist, 
hoping  also  to  attain  to  that  of  magician,  but 
not  claiming  as  yet  to  have  mastered  the  mys- 
teries of  the  magical  operations  of  mind  upon 
matter." 

After  this  exposition  of  his  aims  and  views 
there  followed  a  record  of  his  experiments  in 
finding  antidotes  for  poisons,  and  careful  de- 
scriptions of  the  progress  of  many  disorders  ; 
but  there  were  none  of  the  plague.  The  diary 
stopped  abruptly  with  the  year  loll,  the  date  of 
Giorgi one's  death.  And  yet  this  was  the 
plague  year,  and  Dr.  Zanelli  lived  and  labored 
for  a  decade  longer.  Why  was  there  no  regis- 
ter of  his  observations  during  this  period  ?  As 
Van  examined  the  book  more  closely,  he  became 
convinced  that  there  had  been  a  record,  and 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES. 


that  it  had  been  torn  out.  Why  was  this  ? 
Had  the  author  himself  destroyed  it  as  contain- 
ing criminating  revelations  ?  Or  had  it  been 
burned  with  his  library  by  the  Inquisition  ?  If 
so,  why  had  any  portion  of  the  book  been 
spared  ?  What  he  had  read  he  reported  on  to 
the  contessa  as  perfectly  innocent  and  sane  ; 
but  this  did  not  in  the  least  satisfy  her. 

"  His  insanity  probably  began  to  develop  at 
this  very  period,"  she  said.  "  The  destruction 
of  the  record  was  in  all  likelihood  his  own  act, 
since  the  Inquisition  would  undoubtedly  have 
made  no  nice  distinctions  in  favor  of  exempt- 
ing the  record  of  innocent  years  from  the 
flames.  It  is  the  work  of  a  cunning  mind 
which  destroys  damaging  evidence,  and  per- 
fectly consistent  with  insanity.  My  only  hope 
now  is  to  learn  something  of  this  singular  man 
and  of  other  members  of  our  family  from  my 
husband's  aunt,  for  I  have  a  premonition  that 
Angelo  will  not  be  successful  in  India." 

The  contessa's  premonition  was  realized. 
The  next  letter  from  Angelo  brought  the  dis- 
appointing information  that  he  had  reached 
the  town  where  Dr.  Chrysolarus  had  resided 
only  to  find  that  the  Dr.  Zanelli  to  whom  he 


280  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

referred  could  not  possibly  have  been  his  ances- 
tor. 

"  We  pored  over  old  papers  until  late  in  the 
night,"  he  wrote,  "  to  be  intrigued  at  times  by 
strange  similarities,  but  to  be  convinced  at  last 
by  the  incontestable  evidence  of  dates  that  this 
is  only  a  strange  similarity  in  names.  The  Dr. 
Zanelli  whose  papers  I  have  just  examined 
lived  here  in  India  for  many  years  after  our 
ancestor  was  executed  in  Venice.  The  hand  in 
which  the  records  are  written  is  very  different 
from  the  precise  script  of  the  old  alchemist, 
though  his  manner  of  experimenting  and  of  re- 
cording his  experiments  is  marvellously  similar. 
It  is  also  hardly  possible  that  the  Chrysolarus 
whose  partner  he  was  could  have  been  the  same 
man  who  studied  with  my  ancestor,  though  he 
may  have  been  of  the  same  family  ;  for  my  host, 
while  he  is  certain  that  he  was  originally  of 
Greek  extraction,  believes  that  his  branch  of 
the  family  have  lived  for  several  centuries  in 
India,  while  the  Venetian  student  or  spy  came 
from  Constantinople,  and  was  heard  from  by 
members  of  our  family  as  living  in  Constantino- 
ple after  the  alchemist's  death.  So,  dearest 
mother,  though  greatly  puzzled  by  the  baffling 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  281 

coincidence  of  two  such  unusual  names  as  Za- 
nelli  and  Chrysolarus  appearing  in  conjunction 
in  two  such  distant  places  at  nearly  the  same 
time,  we  are  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  they 
were  different  men.  I  wish  that  I  might  have 
proved  them  to  be  the  same,  for  there  is  no 
doubt  that  the  Indian  pair  were  as  eminent  in 
science  as  they  were  benevolent  and  upright  in 
character,  of  which  there  is  abundant  evidence. 
My  host,  too,  is  a  most  amiable  and  cultured 
man,  but  driven  and  overworked.  He  has  or- 
ganized a  hospital,  in  which  the  sick  are  gath- 
ered, but  it  cannot  contain  all  the  applicants, 
and  he  cannot  answer  all  the  calls  for  his  at- 
tendance. In  the  presence  of  so  much  misery 
my  own  anxiety  seems  the  acme  of  selfishness. 
My  quest  is  closed,  but  it  matters  not.  Here  is 
work  for  me  to  do,  and  here  I  shall  remain  for 
the  present,  nursing  these  poor  people.  If  I 
could  induce  some  physician  with  any  knowl- 
edge of  this  dread  disease  to  join  me  here  I 
would  not  grudge  the  expense,  and  I  beg  you, 
mother,  to  see  some  of  the  savants  at  the  con- 
vention now  in  progress  in  Venice  and  see  what 
can  be  done. " 
The  contessa  did  not  need  to  advise  with  any 


282  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

of  these  learned  people.  She  had  become  con- 
vinced of  Van's  fitness  for  such  an  enterprise, 
and  they  quickly  came  to  an  agreement,  for 
this  was  just  the  opportunity  for  which  Van 
had  been  hoping,  and  he  hastened  away  to  join 
Angel o  in  India. 

It  was  Winnie's  turn  now  to  bear  absence  and 
waiting  bravely,  but  both  she  and  Tib  found 
comfort  in  working  for  others.  They  kept  up 
their  sketching  and  reading  also,  for  they  re- 
minded each  other  that  their  days  of  privilege 
in  Venice  were  almost  over,  and  a  conversation 
took  place  shortly  after  this  which  precipitated 
their  return  to  America.  They  were  chatting 
with  the  contessa  on  the  balcony  when  Winnie 
chanced  to  remark  :  "I  want,  before  I  go 
home,  to  make  a  drawing  of  the  most  typical 
of  the  old  Venetians,  and  I  have  decided  that  I 
have  found  him  in  Andrea  Verocchio's  statue 
of  the  '  Condottiere  Bartolomeo  Colleoni.'  We 
know  of  him  through  history  only  as  a  soldier 
of  fortune,  a  mercenary  soldier,  selling  his 
sword  to  the  State  for  twelve  hundred  ducats  a 
month  ;  but  look  at  the  statue,  and  you  can  see 
why  the  sculptor  deserved  his  appellation  '  An- 
drew the  Keen-eyed.'  There  is  so  much  of  in- 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  283 

dividual  character  there  that,  as  I  studied  it 
from  the  doorway  opposite,  I  felt  that  we 
would  never  have  known  the  man  if  Yerocchio 
had  not  placed  him  there  for  all  time  to  face 
down  his  detractors.  I  believe  that  Ruskin  is 
right  when  he  says  that  there  is  not  a  more 
glorious  work  of  sculpture  existing  in  the 
world." 

-  "  Ruskin  must  be  taken  with  a  grain  of  salt, 
I  find,"  said  Tib  ;  "  but  if  he  had  said  eques- 
trian statue,  instead  of  including  all  sculpture,  I 
would  have  agreed  with  him." 

11  We  always  hear,"  said  the  contessa,  "  that 
the  statue  was  partly  the  work  of  Leopardi ; 
but  Verocchio  was  by  far  the  greater  sculptor. 
I  wonder  how  much  of  the  work  was  really 
his«" 

"  I  fancy  all  the  real  art  part,"  said  Winnie. 
"  Leopardi  merely  cast  it  from  Verocchio 's  de- 
signs after  his  death.  Let  me  read  you  what 
Perkins  says  of  the  statue  in  his  '.  Tuscan  Sculp- 
tors.' He  is  always  measured  and  just,  and 
you  will  accept  his  estimate,  if  not  that  of  Rus- 
kin. Listen  to  this  extract,  and  tell  me  if  I 
have  not  chosen  well  in  taking  him  for  my  typi- 
cal Venetian  : 


284  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  '  The  stalwart  figure  of  Colleoni,  clad  in 
armor,  with  a  helmet  upon  his  head,  is  the 
most  perfect  embodiment  of  the  idea  which 
history  gives  us  of  an  Italian  condottiere.  As 
his  horse,  with  arched  neck  and  slightly  bent 
head,  paces  slowly  forward,  he,  sitting  straight 
in  his  saddle,  turns  to  look  over  his  left  shoul- 
der, showing  us  a  sternly  marked  countenance, 
with  deep- set  eyes,  whose  intensity  of  expression 
reveals  a  character  of  iron  which  never  recoiled 
before  any  obstacle.  The  stern  simplicity  of 
the  rider  is  happily  set  off  by  the  richness  of 
detail  lavished  upon  the  saddle,  the  breastplate, 
the  crupper,  and  the  knotted  mane  of  his 
steed ;  and  the  effect  of  the  whole  group  is 
heightened  by  the  very  elegant  pedestal  upon 
which  Leopardi  has  placed  it.'  ' 

Tib  had  listened  attentively.  "Yes,"  she 
said,  "  he  is  certainly  the  type  of  the  warrior  ; 
but  I  like  better  the  kind  of  man  we  see  in  the 
portraits  of  Venetian  scholars,  artists,  and 
statesmen.  I  think  it  is  Stearns  who  says  that 
there  is  much  more  of  pathos  than  of  pride  in 
the  faces  of  the  old  senators  and  doges  in  the 
portraits  in  the  Ducal  Palace  ;  that  they  look 
careworn  and  sleepless.  In  speaking  of  Tinto- 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  285 

retto's  portrait  of  Pasquale  Cicogna  lie  notes  a 
look  of  judicial  severity  which  he  thinks  in- 
separable from  a  high  public  position, '  combined 
with  such  purity,  benevolence,  and  amiability 
that  we  accept  him  at  once  as  the  type  of  the 
noble  Venetian.'  I  have  always  thought  that 
Count  Angelo  grown  older  would  look  like  that 
portrait ;  and  another  remark  of  Stearns's  so 
exactly  describes  him :  '  When  you  meet  a 
nobleman  of  real  ability,  in  whose  face  there  is 
no  appearance  of  family  pride,  you  may  feel 

sure  that  he  is  a  true  aristocrat.'  " 

/ 

There  was  no  affectation  in  the  utter  absence 
of  self -consciousness  with  which  Tib  spoke  of 
Count  Angelo.  She  was  deeply  interested  in 
him  ;  but  there  was  no  thought  of  herself  in 
this  interest.  Every  one  else,  however,  was 
embarrassed  by  the  remark,  and  there  was  a 
little  pause  in  the  conversation,  during  which 
Winnie  wrathfully  addressed  her  in  her 
thoughts  as  a  little  idiot,  and  wondered  when 
she  would  find  out  that  she  was  in  love. 

The  contessa  also  winced  at  this  frank  ex- 
pression of  admiration,  and  there  was  a  look  of 
almost  motherly  pity  in  her  face,  though  she 
joined  in  the  conversation  in  a  cold,  forced 


286  .    WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

voice.  "  The  Venetian  nobles  had  many  of 
them  very  little  to  be  proud  of,"  was  her  first 
remark.  ' '  At  one  time,  when  the  republic  was 
in  need  of  money,  patents  of  nobility  were  sold 
by  the  State  at  fifty  thousand  ducats  apiece, 
and  seventy  families  profited  by  the  occasion 
to  frankly  buy  the  rank,  which  is  as  truly  sold 
to-day  when  a  poor  noble  makes  a  rich  marriage. ' ' 

"  The  transaction  you  speak  of  was  more  cred- 
itable," said  Tib,  "  because  it  might  be  consid- 
ered that  the  State  was  conferring  a  decoration 
for  a  very  generous  gift  for  the  cause  of  patriot- 
ism." 

The  contessa  shook  her  head.  "  A  sale  in 
both  instances,"  she  said.  "  If  American  girls 
only  knew,  as  I  do,  how  heavily  the  coronet 
rests  on  the  head  of  many  a  fair  marchesa  and 
contessa  they  would  not  be  so  mad  for  titles. 
How  is  it  Owen  Meredith  speaks  of  the  season 
in  London  ? 

"  '  When  strawberries  are  sold  in  pottles  like  sheaves, 
And  young  ladies  are  sold  for  the  strawberry  leaves.'  ' 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Winnie  ;  "  the  strawberry 
leaves  between  the  pearls  on  the  coronet.  I 
never  understood  the  allusion  before.  Ade- 
laide threw  away  a  coronet  in  France,  and  I 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  287 

don't  think  that  any  of  us  place  an  overweening 
value  upon  them  ;  but  I  can't  understand,  my 
dear  contessa,  why  you,  of  all  persons,  should 

"  '  slight  the  highly  bom  with  rank  afflicted, 
Or  treat  with  lofty  scorn  the  well-connected.'  " 

There  was  a  spice  of  malice  in  Winnie's  fling, 
for  she  could  not  comprehend  the  contessa's  mo- 
tive for  a  remark  which  she  felt  was  unjustly 
directed  at  Tib. 

"  My  own  marriage  was  happier  than  most 
international  ones,"  the  contessa  replied  ;  "  but 
national  temperaments  as  well  as  customs  and 
education  are  so  different  that  such  connec- 
tions rarely  prove  congenial." 

Tib  did  not  understand  this  fencing  between 
the  contessa  and  Winnie,  but  she  vaguely  felt 
a  chill  in  the  atmosphere,  as  though  they  were 
sailing  near  an  unseen  iceberg,  and,  as  in  the 
figure  which  it  suggested,  knew  that  the  chill 
meant  danger,  and  so  tactfully  piloted  the  con- 
versation, as  she  thought,  into  other  channels. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  so  many  foreigners 
love  to  live  in  Venice,  though  the  Palazzo  Rez- 
zonico,  Browning's  home,  with  all  its  'arched 
windows  and  pillared  balconies, '  seems  too  cold 
and  grand  for  any  sense  of  home  feeling  or 


288  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

mirth.  I  thought  the  rear  entrance  far  more 
picturesque  than  the  front  one.  Its  ceilings, 
by  Tiepolo  and  Tiepoletto,  and  its  grand  pro- 
portions all  help  give  it  an  impression  of  vast- 
ness,  but  the  very  spirit  of  desolation  seems  to 
brood  in  the  rooms." 

"  It  was  not  so  in  the  days  of  the  Rez- 
zonicos,' '  said  the  contessa.  "  You  know  Pope 
Clement  XIII.  was  of  that  family.  It  is  one  of 
our  best ;  and  when  Joseph  II.  visited  Venice, 
in  1769,  the  republic  gave  him  a  concert  in  this 
palace,  said  to  be  one  of  the  most  splendid  en- 
tertainments ever  given  in  the  city." 

"  It  must  have  been  warmer  and  brighter 
even  in  Browning's  lifetime,"  said  Tib;  "but 
BOW  I  could  not  help  feeling  as  if  it  were  his 
tomb,  especially  when  I  read  that  tablet  on  the 
wall : 


A 

ROBERTO  BROWNING, 

Morto  in  questo  Palazzo, 

Venezia  Pose. 

Open  my  heart,  and  you  will  see 
Graved  inside  of  it  Italy. 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES,.  289 

I  can  understand  those  words,  and  the  inscrip- 
tion on  Rawdon  Brown's  tomb  : 

"  '  Anglus  Brown  am  I, 

Although  my  heart's  Venetian.'  " 

1 '  Who  was  Rawdon  Brown  ?' '  asked  Win- 
nie. 

"  He  was  an  Englishman,"  replied  Tib,  "  who 
came  to  Venice  intending  to  stay  a  week,  and 
lived  here  forty  years,  never  leaving  it  until  his 
death.  Here  is  the  sonnet  which  Browning 
wrote  about  the  incident.  I  found  it  in  an  old 
number  of  the  Century  i 

"  '  Sighed  Rawdon  Brown  :  "  Yes,  I'm  departing,  Toni  J 
I  needs  must,  just  this  once  before  I  die, 
Revisit  England  :  Anglus  Brown  am  I, 
Although  iny  heart's  Venetian.     Yes,  old  crony — 
Venice  and  London — London's  Death  the  bony 
Compared  with  Life — that's  Venice  !    What  a  sky, 
A  sea,  this  morning  !    One  last  look,  good-by. 
Ca  Pesaro  !    No  lion — I'm  a  coney 
To  weep  !    I'm  dazzled  ;  'tis  that  sun  I  view 
Rippling  the — the — Cospetto,  Toni !    Down 
With  carpet  bag,  and  off  with  valise  straps  1 
Bella  Venezifi,.  non  ti  laacio  piu  !  " 
Nor  did  Brown  ever  leave  her.     Well,  perhaps 
Browning  next  week  may  find  himself  quite  Brown. ' 


290  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"Do  you  know,"  Tib  continued,  after  a 
pause,  "that  is  exactly  the  way  I  feel?  I 
believe  I  love  Venice  as  much  as  Count  Angela 
does.  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  going  back, 
and  yet  America  is  my  home,  and  father  and 
mother  and  my  lifework  are  there,  and  I  must 
not  become  de- Americanized. " 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  Winnie  replied 
with  intention.  "  Your  lifework  appears  to  me 
to  be  to  paint  and  to  draw,  and  if  you  can  find  a 
way  of  disposing  of  your  work  while  you  do  it 
here,  perhaps  your  parents  will  join  you,  and 
you  can  live  in  some  old  Venetian  palace,  and 
listen,  as  we  do  now,  from  its  cushioned  bal- 
cony, to  the  caressing  plash  of  the  sea  upon  its 
marble  steps." 

Tib's  eyes  shone  with  eagerness  ;  but  the 
contessa  spoke  up  quickly  in  a  voice  that  quiv- 
ered a  little  with  suppressed  excitement,  though 
she  held  herself  in  admirable  control. 

•*  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Smith  when  I  was  visiting  my  father,  and  I 
hardly  think  that  they  would  fit  into  Venetian 
life.  I  cannot  imagine  Mr.  Smith  loitering  on 
a  balcony.  He  is  far  too  energetic  to  be  con- 
tent with  our  dreamy  existence.  I  fear  that  it 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  291 

would  be  a  great  mistake  to  tear  them  away 
from  their  familiar  surroundings." 

"  Yes,"  Tib  assented  ;  "  father  could  never 
learn  to  f  loiter.'  He  might  be  so  old  and  lame 
that  he  would  have  to  hobble,  but  it  would  be 
briskly." 

"But  you  know,"  Winnie  insisted,  "that 
Henry  James  says  there  are  two  kinds  of  life  in 
Venice,  and  the  Grand  Canal  '  may  mean  to 
you  the  balcony  of  a  high  and  well-loved  pal- 
ace, the  memory  of  irresistible  evenings  of  end- 
less lingering  and  looking,  or  the  restlessness 
of  a  fresh  curiosity  and  methodical  inquiry  in 
a  gondola  piled  with  references.' ' 

"  Gondola  life  would  suit  father  exactly," 
Tib  exclaimed,  clapping  her  hands  ;  "  he  would 
never  weary  of  the  surprises  of  new  exploration 
and  the  verification  of  all  his  odd  scraps  of  in- 
formation, for  he  has  been  a  great  reader.  And 
mother  is  so  calm  and  peaceful,  a  balcony  like 
this  would  be  an  endless  delight  to  her.  To 
give  them  the  evening  of  their  life  in  Venice  ! 
Ah !  that  is  something  to  look  forward  to,  to 
work  for  with  every  power  of  my  being." 

"Believe  me,  no,"  said  the  contessa  gently 
but  firmly.  '' "  They  would  be  very  homesick 


292  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

here.  I  tried  it  with  my  own  father.  He  spent 
a  month  here,  and  then  went  home  disgusted 
with  the  shiftless  ways  of  the  Italians.  He 
could  never  see  the  picturesqeness  of  dirt,  and 
unpleasant  odors  drove  him  crazy.  He  used  to 
say  that  Dickens  was  the  only  writer  that  had 
told  the  truth  about  Venice.  There  were  sev- 
eral passages  in  '  Little  Dorrit '  which  he  was 
so  fond  of  quoting  and  applying  that  I  have 
them  quite  by  heart :  '  Dungeon -like  tenements, 
with  their  walls  besmeared  with  a  thousand 
downward  stains  and  streaks,  as  if  every  crazy 
aperture  in  them  had  been  weeping  tears  of  rust 
into  the  Adriatic  for  centuries,  or  blotched  with 
mould,  as  if  missionary  maps  were  bursting  out 
of  them  to  impart  geographical  knowledge  ; 
barred  windows,  which  seemed  to  belong  to 
jails  for  criminal  rats,  with  their  lattice  blinds 
all  hanging  askew  and  something  draggled  and 
dirty  dangling  out  of  most  of  them.'  He  said 
that  when  he  wanted  the  sea,  he  preferred  it 
from  the  deck  of  a  good  ship,  and  he  did  not 
want  it  to  follow  him  into  his  very  house,  so 
that  he  could  never  get  the  odor  of  bilge  water 
and  an  ebb  tide  on  a  weedy  shore  out  of  his 
nostrils.  It  was  all  a  great  mistake,  and  he 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  293 

went  back  to  Scup  Haven  with  infinite  relief, 
and  used  to  declare  that  the  sunsets  on  Long 
Island  Sound  were  far  more  beautiful  than  any 
he  ever  saw  in  Venice.  Think  of  that !  Why, 
there  is  no  place  in  the  world  where  sunsets 
are  so  beautiful  as  here.  Who  do  you  think 
has  best  painted  our  sunsets  ?  To  my  mind, 
Ziem  is  too  gaudy,  Turner's  splendid  visions 
too  unreal,  and  Rico  is  brilliant,  but  artificial 
and  chic.  Where  is  the  perfect  Venice  ?" 

"Only  here,"  Tib  replied,  for  Winnie  was 
strangely  silent.  She  was  watching  the  con- 
tessa  with  something  like  anger  in  her  scrutiny  ; 
and  Tib,  who  longed  to  make  peace,  followed 
the  contessa's  lead.  "  If  your  point  of  view  is 
the  balcony,"  she  said,  "  everything  is  moving 
before  you  ;  if  a  gondola,  then  you  are  moving. 
Did  you  not  experience  a  feeling  of  phantas- 
magoria the  other  evening  when  the  solid  Cam- 
panile, silhouetted  against  the  palpitating  sky, 
seemed,  with  its  reflection,  actually  to  waver 
with  the  rocking  of  our  gondola  \  That  shim- 
mering incandescence  cannot  be  painted — it  can 
only  be  described,  and  I  think  that  of  all  writers 
Shelley  has  done  it  best.  Do  you  remem- 
ber : 


294       WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

"  '  And  before  that  charm  of  light, 
As  within  a  furnace  bright, 
Column,  tower,  and  dome  and  spire 
Shine  like  obelisks  of  lire, 
Pointing  with  inconstant  motion 
From  the  altar  of  the  ocean 
To  the  sulphur-tinted  skies.'  " 

"Exactly;  But  it  takes  either  a  poet  or  an 
artist  to  feel  that.  My  father  was  neither. 
Take  my  advice,  my  dear,  and  do  not  urge  your 
parents  to  come  to  Venice. " 

The  contessa  vanished  into  the  house  as  she 
dpoke,  and  Winnie  clenched  her  small  fist  and 
shook  it  menacingly  at  her  retreating  figure. 

"What  does  it  all  mean  ?"  Tib  asked,  won- 
deringly. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  ask,"  Winnie  re- 
plied with  warmth.  "  It  means  that  she  is  a 
meddling,  viperous  old  thing,  and  wants  to 
make  us  leave  Venice  never  to  return." 

"Oh,  no!"  Tib  exclaimed.  "The  contessa 
has  been  very  kind  to  us — you  know  she  has, 
Winnie.  How  can  you  talk  so  ?" 

"  She  was  kind  enough  until  she  discovered 
that  Count  Angelo  liked  you,  and  then  she 
packed  him  off  to  India,  and  now  she  is  trying 
to  get  you  away  before  he  returns  !" 


SUREDS  AND  PATCHES.  295 

"  How  absurd  !  The  contessa  is  too  clever  a 
woman  to  imagine  such  an  impossible  state  of 
affairs,  and  she  would  never  have  acted  upon 
such  a  supposition  unless  the  danger  really 
existed." 

"  Well,  it  does  exist." 

Tib  flushed  painfully.  "  Winnie,  you  are 
carrying  your  joke  too  far." 

"  I  am  not  joking  ;  and  it  is  not  a  figment  of 
anybody's  imagination,  but  actual  .fact.  He 
told  me  so  himself." 

In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  Winnie  had 
gone  too  far.  She  realized  suddenly  that  Count 
Angelo  had  told  her  in  confidence,  and  she 
pulled  herself  sharply  together,  and  in  answer 
to  Tib's  questions,  "  Told  you  what  ?"  "  Who 
told  you  1"  replied  rather  lamely,  "  that  the 
contessa  did  not  approve  of  her  son's  liking 
for  you.  It  was  Van  told  me,  and  the  contessa 
tried  to  make  Van  her  confederate.  She  want- 
ed him  to  urge  us  to  return  to  America  ;  but 
Van  had  no  notion  of  aiding  her — quite  the 
contrary.  If  Count  Angelo  has  not  already 
proposed  to  you,  he  will  after  Van  gets  hold  of 
him." 

"O  Winnie!"   Tib    cried    in    real   distress. 


296  WITCH  WIXXIE  LSf  VEMCB. 

"  How  could  you  be  so  unkind,  so  disloyal  as 
to  talk  about  me  in  such  a  way  to  Van  !" 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  should  be  so  indignant ; 
all  I  said  was  that  I  believed  you  and  Count 
Angelo  were  really  in  love  with  one  another, 
but  were 'two  precious  innocents  who  did  not 
know  your  own  minds." 

"  And  you  took  it  upon  yourselves  to  en- 
lighten us,  and  are  playing  a  little  drama  like 
that  with,  which  the  friends  of  Beatrice  and 
Benedict  amused  themselves— you  to  try  to 
make  me  believe  that  Count  Angelo  cares  for  me 
when  he  does  not,  and  Van  to  tell  Count  Angelo 
that  I  love  him.  O  Winnie,  Winnie,  I  would 
not  have  believed  it  of  you  !" 

"  Now,  Tib,  listen  to  reason.  Van  will  not 
do  anything  of  the  kind.  He  is  discreet,  and 
he  lias  the  highest  esteem  for  you.  You  may 
trust  him  implicitly.  And  as  for  the  contessa, 
she  is  only  a  spiteful  old  cat,  and  we  won't  pay 
her  whims  the  least  attention." 

But  Tib  was  seriously  hurt  and  indignant, 
and  though  she  forgave  Winnie,  knowing  that 
her  friend  had  intended  it  all  for  her  good,  she 
could  not  bear  to  remain  in  Venice  until  the 
count's  return.  She  had  no  more  faith  in 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  297 

Van's  discretion  than  in  Winnie's,  and  had  no 
mind  to  remain  a  passive  victim  of  their  plots. 
She  argued  to  herself,  too,  that  to  remain,  now 
that  she  knew  what  they  were  trying  to  do, 
was  to  countenance  their  plans  and  to  be  in 
some  sort  an  agent  in  them.  "  It  could  never 
have  been  in  any  case,"  she  told  herself. 
"  Lolo  and  I  do  not  love  one  another  ;  but  it 
was  such  a  beautiful  friendship.  Why  did 
they  spoil  it,  for  now  all  the  sweet  unconscious- 
ness is  gone,  and  it  can  never  be  quite  the  same. 
I  have  lost  my  little  playmate.  He  can  never 
be  Lolo  to  me  again  or  I  Nellie  Zanelli."  The 
contessa's  unkindness  hurt  her  cruelly.  "  If  it 
had  been  true,"  she  wondered,  "  why  should 
she  have  wished  to  separate  us  ?  It  is  only  her 
own  story  over  again  ;  our  parents  were  friends 
and  neighbors.  Her  father,  the  old  sea  cap- 
tain, had  a  high  respect  for  mine,  and  used  to 
love  to  sit  on  our  porch  and  spin  sea  yams  and 
watch  the  Soup  Haven  sunsets.  Why  should  a 
title  make  such  a  difference  ?  Did  Angelo 
share  this  feeling  ?  she  wondered.  Was  all  this 
quest  to  vindicate  a  dead  ancestor's  honor  only 
an  idle  excuse  for  slipping  away  out  of  %danger 
when  he  felt  himself  being  drawn  toward  a 


298  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

mesalliance  f  She  pressed  her  burning  face  into 
her  pillow.  There  was  no  such  thing  as  honor 
or  nobility  or  love  anywhere.  What  was  she 
saying  ?  Yes,  they  were  all  waiting  for  her  at 
home  in  the  rugged  father  and  the  devoted 
mother  whom  those  people  despised.  And  she, 
who  knew  their  worth,  how  had  she  neglected 
and  slighted  them,  living  with  perfect  content 
away  from  them  all  these  months  in  a  fool's 
paradise  of  dream  and  cloud !  But  she  had 
awakened  at  last,  and  knew  where  the  true  hap- 
piness waited  for  her.  Heartsick  and  wounded 
more  by  the  supposed  slight  to  her  loved  par- 
ents than  to  herself,  Tib  decided  upon  imme- 
diate departure.  Winnie  would  have  preferred 
to  have  delayed  until  Van's  return,  but  she 
knew  that  he  too  would  soon  sail  for  America  ; 
and  as  she  felt  in  a  remorseful  way  that  she 
was  in  some  sort  to  blame  for  all  this,  she  de- 
termined not  to  desert  her  friend.  Professor 
Waite's  arguments  and  Adelaide's  entreaties 
were  of  no  avail,  the  less  so  as  the  contessa,  on 
hearing  Tib's  decision,  made  no  attempt  to  dis- 
suade her,  though  her  heart  yearned  for  the 
child,  and  was  pained  by  the  coldness  with 
which  Tib  received  the  (what  seemed  to  her 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  299 

hypocritical)  messages  of  affection  to  her  par- 
ents. She  would  not  have  been  so  misjudged  if 
Tib  could  have  understood  her  real  motives  or 
could  have  read  the  following  letter,  which  the 
contessa  had  received  from  her  relative  shortly 
after  Van's  departure : 

MY  DEAR  COUSIN  :  This  is  a  strange  question 
which  you  ask  me,  "  Have  any  members  of  the 
Zanelli  family  ever  shown  a  tendency  to  in- 
sanity ?"  You  assure  me  that  your  reasons  for 
asking  this  question  are  weighty,  and  that  my 
answer  shall  be  held  in  confidence.  As  for  this 
last  assurance,  I  care  not  who  knows,  for  I  can 
truly  reply  that  there  has  never  been  but  one 
case  of  insanity  in  our  long  line,  and  I  am 
thankful  that  case  is  clearly  proved.  Our  an- 
cestor, Giovanni  Zanelli,  the  so-called  alchemist, 
who  suffered  death  as  a  malefactor,  was  mad, 
and  this  his  own  writings  testify  ;  but  for  this 
we  should  all  be  grateful,  since  it  absolves  him 
of  all  accountability  for  the  deeds  which  he 
freely  confessed  both  before  the  tribunal  and  in 
his  own  handwriting  in  a  little  diary  which  he 
kept  in  a  cabinet  in  his  private  apartments  in 
your  house.  My  grandfather,  when  visiting 


300  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

your  husband's  grandmother,  was  so  impressed 
with  horror  on  reading  this  record,  that  he  cut 
out  the  leases  of  the  diary  and  brought  them 
away,  intending  to  burn  them.  His  conscience 
would  not,  however,  allow  him  to  do  this,  and 
after  his  return  to  Rome  he  could  never  bring 
himself  to  return  them  to  his  relative  and  host- 
ess, thinking  that  if  she  did  not  know  their 
contents  it  was  cruelty  to  inform  her.  My  fa- 
ther, to  whom  he  showed  them  later  in  life,  put 
the  same  construction  upon  them  that  I  do, 
grateful  that  they  proved  the  insanity  of  one 
whose  misdeeds  have  always  been  our  shame. 
He  sent  the  leaves  to  your  husband,  who  mis- 
judged the  motive,  considered  the  act  an  insult, 
and  returned  them.  I  would  have  said  nothing 
about  them  but  for  your  question,  as  your  hus- 
band wrote  that  he  intended  that  neither  you 
nor  your  son  should  ever  hear  of  this  ancestor. 
I  am  sure,  however,  that  he  was  wrong,  and 
that  you  will  be  as  glad  as  I  am  to  know  that 
this  unfortunate  man  was  demented.  If  no 
other  proof  were  to  be1  found,  the  internal  evi- 
dence contained  in  his  observations  on  the  dis- 
covery of  "  a  sovereign  ointment  for  the  plague" 
is  sufficient.  This  crazy  man  believed  that  he 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  301 

had  found  an  unfailing  cure  for  this  dread  dis- 
ease in  blood  freshly  drawn  from  a  goat,  itself 
diseased,  which  he  kept  tethered  in  the  garden 
back  of  his  laboratory.  He  was  led  to  this  in- 
sane and  dangerous  conclusion  by  the  fact  that 
the  animal  had  been  owned  by  a  woman  who 
was  afflicted  with  the  plague  in  its  early  stages, 
and  seeing  her  goat  attacked  and  wounded  by 
a  savage  dog,  she  had  rushed  out  to  drive  him 
away,  and  was  herself  bitten.  Dr.  Zanelli  im- 
agined that  in  binding  up  the  goat's  wound 
some  of  its  blood  had  been  transfused  to  her 
own  bleeding  hands.  At  any  rate,  being  called 
in  after  this  accident,  he  watched  the  progress 
of  the  case,  and  as  the  woman  most  unfortu- 
nately recovered  from  the  plague,  he  came  to  the 
conclusion  which  I  have  stated,  bought  her  goat, 
and  inoculated  his  plague-smitten  patients  with 
its  poisonous  blood.  In  this  way  he  was  doubt- 
less responsible  for  the  death  of  many  of  the 
good  citizens  of  Venice.  Not  morally  responsi- 
ble, however,  and  he  should  have  been  confined 
in  a  madhouse  instead  of  executed.  Some  time 
after  his  death  a  letter  was  received  through  a 
member  of  the  De  Rovere  family,  which  we 
judge  to  have  been  written  by  that  Chrysolarus 


302  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE, 

who  was  considered  his  confederate.  It  be- 
sought the  son  of  Giovanni  Zanelli  to  remove 
to  Constantinople,  where  he  would  be  cared  for 
by  those  who  knew  and  could  prove  his  father's 
innocence.  This  invitation  was  not  accepted, 
it  being  thought  at  the  time  to  come  from  the 
Sultan,  who  was  supposed  to  have  bribed  Dr. 
Zanelli  to  the  murder  of  his  fellow- citizens. 
Your  husband  knew  of  this  letter,  and  regarded 
it,  as  we  do,  as  written  by  Chrysolarus — for  who 
else  could  prove  his  innocence,  and  how  could 
it  be  proved  excepting  by  showing  that  he  was 
a  madman  ? 

Trusting  that  you  may  derive  as  much  satis- 
faction from  this  conclusion  that  we  have  al- 
ways experienced,  I  rest, 

Your  affectionate  cousin, 

FAUSTINA. 

On  reading  this  letter,  all  hope  died  in  the 
contessa's  heart.  She  did  not  question  the 
conclusion  arrived  at  by  her  relative,  and  she 
now  felt  that  for  Angelo  to  marry  would  be  a 
positive  crime.  He  might  any  day  become  a 
maniac,  and  her  only  thought  was  to  spare  both 
her  son  and  Tib  the  calamity  of  loving  one  an- 


SURED8  AND  PATCHES.  303 

,  if  indeed  such  a  calamity  had  not  al- 
ready happened.  She  knew  that  she  was  mis- 
understood, but  she  believed  that  she  was 
acting  for  the  best  good  of  both,  and  she  did 
not  falter. 

Just  before  their  departure,  Winnie  and  Tib 
made  a  farewell  visit  to  the  model,  Violante, 
and  arranged  that  the  school  for  laundry  work 
and  the  excursions  to  the  Lido  should  continue 
through  the  summer.  There  was  much  lament- 
ing and  kissing  of  hands  both  by  Violante,  her 
sister,  and  the  children — for  the  two  American 
girls  had  gained  the  affection  of  all  who  knew 
them.  Violante  reminded  them  that  there  was 
another  of  the  old  letters  which  they  had  not 
read.  Tib  disclaimed  any  further  interest  in 
them,  but  Winnie  suggested  that  they  might 
prove  to  be  of  importance  to  Count  Angelo,  and 
they  accepted  it  from  Violante,  and  presented  it 
unread  to  the  contessa,  who  looked  it  over  and 
mailed  it  to  her  son,  though  she  found  nothing 
in  it  to  change  her  belief  in  the  fatal  heritage 
of  insanity  bequeathed  by  Dr.  Zanelli  to  his 
descendants.  The  contessa  was  in  the  little 
company  that  escorted  Winnie  and  Tib  to  the 
railway  station,  but  their  farewells  were  forced 


304  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

and  coldly  polite.  Tib  found  on  their  seat— as 
the  contessa  had  so  often  prepared  it  for  their 
gondola  trips  to  the  lagoons — a  dainty  basket 
of  luncheon.  Winnie  scoffed  volubly,  and  de- 
clared that  a  morsel  of  it  would  choke  her ; 
that  if  she  had  one  of  the  old  alchemist's  test 
glasses  it  would  have  shattered  at  the  first  drop 
of  the  Chianti,  and  she  gave  it  all  ostentatious- 
ly away  to  a  large  family  party  who  were  their 
travelling  companions,  and  regretted  her  con- 
tumely hungrily  and  crossly  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  day.  But  Tib  hardly  knew  that  she 
was  hungry  and  faint.  She  leaned  back  with 
closed  eyelids,  through  which  the  tears  were 
creeping,  for  she  knew  that  her  dream  of  Ven- 
ice was  dead,  and  that  whatever  solace  in  work 
and  joy  in  self-renunciation  her  future  might 
have  in  store,  Venice  would  always  be,  as  now, 

"  So  dear,  that  in  the  memory  she  remains 
Like  an  old  love,  who  would  indeed  have  been 
Our  only  love,  but  died." 

And  Angelo?  The  news  that  Tib  had  left 
Venice  was  indeed  a  great  surprise  ;  but  it  did 
not  bring  any  sense  of  personal  loss,  for  he  had 
decided  to  remain  where  he  felt  that  he  was 
needed  and  was  doing  good  until  the  special 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  305 

great  exigency  had  passed.  After  that  the 
world  might  be  wide,  but  he  would  find  her 
somewhere,  for  the  papers  which  his  mother 
had  sent  him,  and  which  had  been  discovered 
through  Tib's  agency,  had  removed  the  horri- 
ble weight  which  had  been  crushing  his  mind 
and  had  awakened  hope  in  Ms  heart. 

The  first  of  these  manuscripts  was  another 
letter  from  Orazio  Vecelli  to  Violante  Palma : 

ADMIRED  AND  LOVED  LADY  :  I  am  smitten 
of  a  grievous  malady,  wherefrom  1  fear  me  I 
shall  not  recover,  since  my  beloved  master,  who 
alone  had  the  secret  of  its  cure,  is  no  longer 
with  us.  Wherefore  I  am  minded  to  do  quickly 
all  needful  things. 

I  have  already  written  you  how  my  fellow- 
pupil,  Chrysolarus,  deserted  my  master  in  his 
sore  peril  in  cowardice,  lest  he  also  should  fall 
under  the  ban  of  the  Church.  Yet  was  he  not 
without  compunction,  for  I  have,  latterly  re- 
ceived a  written  declaration  of  our  dear  mas- 
ter's innocence  signed  by  this  remorseful  disci- 
ple. This  paper  was  neither  dated  nor  was  the 
address  of  the  sender  given,  showing  that  he  is 
still  in  fear  of  his  life.  It  was  brought  me  by 


306  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

a  sailor,  who  said  that  he  had  received  it  in 
some  port  of  the  Indies.  Alas  !  it  came  too 
late  to  be  of  any  service  to  our  dear  master,  nor 
can  I  send  it  to  his  family,  for  they  have  left 
Venice,  and  their  house  stands  empty  and  for- 
lorn, nor  know  I  whether  they  will  ever  come 
back  to  occupy  it.  I  paused  lately  before  my 
good  master's  door,  blocked  by  the  Inquisition, 
but  I  found  an  entrance  over  the  garden  wall, 
which  as  a  lad  I  had  often  scaled  with  the  help 
of  the  overhanging  branches  of  the  tamarisk 
tree  ;  and  making  my  way,  like  a  thief,  through 
a  broken  shutter  into  the  house,  I  placed  this 
declaration  of  his  disciple  Chry  solar  us  behind 
the  portrait  of  my  revered  master,  which  my 
father  painted  in  happier  times'. 

I  write  you  all  this,  most  esteemed  lady,  not 
alone  because  of  the  interest  which  I  know  you 
have  always  felt  in  my  master,  and  because  I 
know  what  joy  it  will  giv7e  you  to  know  of  this 
tardy  refutation  of  that  great  calumny,  but 
also  because,  though  older  than  myself,  God 
may  order  it  that  you  live  longer,  and  I  would 
that  some  one  other  than  I  possess  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  hiding-place  of  this  paper,  to  con- 
vey the  same  to  any  member  of  that  unhappy 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  307 

family,    should    their    whereabouts     become 
known. 

May  time  kindly  spare  to  you  that  beauty 
which  so  many  celebrated  artists  have  delighted 
in  recording,  and  may  providence  from  plague 
and  pestilence  and  all  other  mischiefs  ever  pro- 
tect you,  is  the  prayer  of 

Your  ladyship's  devoted  servitor, 

ORAZIO  VECELLI. 

Only  a  few  days  after  writing  this  letter, 
Orazio  and  his  father  both  died  of  the  plague-^- 
Orazio  in  the  public  pest-house  and  the  great 
painter  alone  in  his  studio.  But  Chrysolarus's 
refutation  had  at  last  reached  the  family  of  the 
maligned  man.  The  contessa  found  it  behind 
the  portrait,  and  with  it  another  long  letter 
containing  a  revelation  so  astounding  that 
Orazio  had  not  dared  to  hint  at  it  in  his  letter 
to  Violante,  and,  indeed,  would  hardly  have  left 
the  revelation  where  it  could  be  found,  were  it 
not  that  the  actors  in  the  drama  were  either 
dead  or  nearing  that  safe  haven  where  the  rage 
of  the  most  powerful  enemy  cannot  follow. 
Chrysolarus  had  proved  Dr.  Zanellfs  inno- 
cence, but  Orazio  did  not  dare  to  have  the  case 


308  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

tried  over  again,  as  it  would  have  been  had  it 
been  known  that  the  alchemist  had  escaped  the 
execution  sentence  and  was  in  reality  living  in 
safety  at  that  time  in  India. 

The  time  had  not  then  come  for  this  dis- 
closure ;  but  to  Angelo  the  letter  explained  all 
that  had  seemed  to  him  so  mysterious  and  so 
impossible  to  reconcile  in  the  disagreement  of 
dates  and  the  different  handwriting,  and  his  an- 
cestor's identity  with  the  learned  and  benevo- 
lent man  whose  record  in  India  he  had  so  great- 
ly admired  was  now  incontestably  proven. 

The  letter  was  addressed  to  the  alchemist's 
son,  and  read  as  follows  : 

To  Ascanio  Zanelli,  wherever  Tie  may  be : 

Before  you  shall  have  received  this,  my  dear 
son,  the  trusty  messenger  by  whom  I  send  it 
has  promised  to  break  to  you  gently  the  tid- 
ings (which,  from  their  astounding  improba- 
bility and  the  joy  with  which  I  doubt  not  they 
will  be  welcomed,  might  otherwise  prove  too 
great  a  shock  for  your  delicate  sensibility)  that 
the  father  whom  you  have  mourned  as  dead, 
and  whose  dishonored  corpse  hundreds  of  his 
townspeople  believed  that  they  saw  burned  in 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  309 

Venice,  by  the  grace  of  Heaven  miraculously 
escaped  cib  Tioste  maligno,  and  is  now  both  alive 
and,  with  the  exception  of  a  cramping  of  my 
ringers  by  rheumatism,  in  good  health.  After 
the  first  shock  of  this  revelation  is  over,  you 
will  be  consumed  with  curiosity  to  know  how 
this  can  be,  and  this  most  natural  desire  I  will 
now  gratify. 

You  doubtless  remember  with  affection  my 
pupil,  Orazio  Yecelli,  and  the  delight  which 
took  in  the  playing  upon  the  organ  of  his 
fair  sister  Lavinia,  when  on  certain  occasions 
I  took  you  with  me  to  the  house  of  my  friend 
the  great  painter,  Titian  Vecelli.  You  will  also 
recall  the  personages  who  most  did  frequent  his 
society,  and  the  pleasure  I  had  in  their  com- 
pany. Know  then,  my  dear  son,  that  my  won- 
derful preservation  from  death  is  due  to  the 
devotion,  daring,  and  ingenuity  of  that  same 
coterie,  with  whom  I  used  to  hold  such  delight- 
ful converse. 

It  is  a  thing  almost  incredible  that  so  many 
should  have  been  in  the  secret  and  should  have 
had  actual  parts  to  play  in  the  carrying  out  of 
the  plot,  and  yet  nothing  have  been  discovered 
by  the  spies  of  the  Council  of  Ten,  who  are 


310       WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

everywhere.  Yet  such  was  the  unanimity  of 
feeling  existing  between  this  band  of  brothers, 
such  their  closeness  in  guarding  the  secret, 
that  not  only  was  my  escape  successfully  car- 
ried out,  but  (as  I  am  informed  by  a  Venetian 
lately  arrived  in  India,  who  knew  not  with 
whom  he  was  speaking)  it  is  universally  be- 
lieved, both  by  the  populace  and  the  officers  of 
the  law  and  of  the  Inquisition,  that  I  suffered 
death,  as  was  designed. 

This,  therefore,  was  the  manner  in  whicli  the 
deed  was  accomplished  :  My  friends  were  not 
idle  while  I  lay  in  prison  before  my  condemna- 
tion, for  they  knew  of  my  arrest,  and  Cardinal 
Bembo  was  informed  of  what  the  Inquisitor 
was  plotting  against  me.  He  therefore  ap- 
peared in  my  behalf  at  the  trial  and  labored 
exceedingly  for  me,  but  could  effect  nothing. 
All  this  was  freely  discussed  one  evening  at 
Titian's  garden,  all  present  being  strongly  in 
my  favor  excepting  the  poet  Aretino.  There- 
fore, after  he  and  all  others  of  the  company  had 
taken  gondolas  for  home,  Sansovino,  Titian,  and 
Bembo  began  to  plot  for  my  rescue.  As  Titian 
was  then  painting  one  of  his  great  frescoes  in 
the  Ducal  Palace,  he  passed  often  in  and  out, 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  311 

and  his  gondola  and  gondoliers  were  well 
known  to  the  guards  of  the  palace.  Sansovino 
also,  in  his  character  of  architect  to  the  govern- 
ment, was  also  well  known,  and  had  access  to 
every  part  of  the  palace ;  while  Bembo,  as 
keeper  of  the  library,  was  frequently  seen  com- 
ing and  going.  Therefore  it  was  an  easy  mat- 
ter for  any  of  the  three  to  enter  or  leave  the 
building  at  will,  or  to  penetrate  to  any  part  of 
it  so  far  as  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  which  connect- 
ed it  with  the  prisons  on  the  other  side  of  the 
canal.  But  to  pass  that  bridge  and  enter  the 
cells  of  the  condemned  was  another  matter, 
strict  watch  being  kept  upon  the  prisoners,  and 
this  vigilance  being  increased  as  the  time  ap- 
proached for  their  execution.  Nevertheless, 
Sansovino  managed  to  get  a  permit  from  the 
superintendent  of  the  prison  to  visit  it  for  the 
purpose  of  observing  what  repairs  might  be 
necessary.  This  he  did  several  times,  so  that 
the  two  jailers  who  relieved  each  other's  watch 
became  accustomed  to  seeing  him  taking  meas- 
urements and  examining  the  locks  and  suggest- 
ing better  contrivances  for  the  safe-keeping  of 
the  prisoners.  In  this  way  he  took  a  wax 
mould  of  the  lock  to  my  cell,  and  himself  made 


312  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

a  key  to  fit  it — for  he  was  very  expert  in  iron 
work,  and  had  a  forge  in  his  own  apartments, 
where  he  made  knockers  and  such  small  objects 
— but  he  took  care  not  to  excite  suspicion  by  be- 
traying any  acquaintance  with  me  or  desire  to 
see  me.  Indeed,  I  had  thought  myself  desert- 
ed of  my  friends,  for  none  came  to  me  but  you, 
who  were  permitted  to  take  farewell  of  me  in 
the  presence  of  the  jailer.  Only  the  priest  who 
was  appointed  to  minister  spiritual  consolation 
was  allowed  to  remain  with  me  the  last  night. 
But  Cardinal  Bembo  effected  that  Pomponio,  the 
oldest  son  of  Titian,  a  priest  indeed,  but  a  devil 
for  daring  and  adventure,  should  be  appointed 
to  this  office.  Wild  as  he  was,  he  had  a  kindly 
heart,  and  to  him  principally  I  owe  my  safety. 
He  came  to  me  also  before  the  last  night  and 
told  me  to  be  of  good  courage,  for  my  rescue 
was  in  preparation. 

I  was  to  be  strangled  at  daybreak  and  my 
body  delivered  to  the  agents  of  the  Inquisition 
to  be  publicly  burned  ;  but  my  three  friends, 
Titian,  Bembo,  and  SaDsovino,  so  bribed  not 
only  the  executioner,  but  all  others  who  had  a 
right  to  see  to  the  carrying  out  of  the  sentence, 
that  their  duty  was  most  carelessly  done,  and 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  313 

yet  none  of  these  men  suspected  that  I  had 
gotten  clean  off,  but  only  that  certain  rigors  of 
the  sentence  were  omitted.  The  executioner  was 
told  that  I  had  swallowed  poison  and  died  that 
night,  and  as  my  body  was  to  be  publicly 
burned,  he  felt  that  even  if  not  actually  dead  I 
soon  would  be,  and  he  was  persuaded  byPom- 
ponio  by  a  large  gift  of  money  to  leave  my  body 
un violated  by  the  strangler's  cord.  Cardinal 
Bembo  had  obtained,  for  the  sake  of  my  fam- 
ily, the  grace  that  my  corpse  should  not  be 
roughly  handled,  but  should  be  borne  from  my 
cell  to  my  funeral  pyre  in  an  open  coffin,  and 
should  be  burned  without  being  taken  there- 
from. This  coffin  was  sent  to  my  cell  on  the 
eve  of  my  execution,  and  was  carefully  exam- 
ined by  the  jailers  ;  but  as  it  was  simply  a  lid- 
less  coffin  with  nothing  therein,  it  excited  no  sus- 
picions. But  when  Pomponio  came,  had  he 
been  properly  searched  much  might  have  been 
discovered  and  all  spoiled,  for  he  wore  under 
his  priest's  gown  a  robe  of  Sansovino's  with  a 
hood,  and,  most  dangerous  evidence  of  all,  had  it 
been  found  upon  him,  a  mask  which  Sansovino 
(who  was  most  expert  in  modelling)  had  fash- 
ioned in  wax,  and  which  reproduced  my  fea- 


314  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

tures  to  the  very  life,  or  rather  death,  for  the 
complexion  had  the  pallor  of  a  corpse.  Being 
arrived  with  these  accessories,  as  soon  as  we 
were  unobserved  he  proceeded  to  construct  an 
effigy  with  one  of  my  sheets  and  the  stuffing  of 
my  mattress,  which  he  dressed  in  the  sanbenito, 
or  yellow  shroud  which  had  been  sent  by  the 
Inquisition,  and  in  which  victims  were  burned. 
We  fastened  the  mask  under  the  yellow  cap, 
and  with  its  closed  eyes  and  real  hair  and 
beard,  it  had  a  most  natural  effect ;  and  then 
we  laid  it  on  the  bed,  adding  the  waxen  hands 
and  bare  feet  which  Sansovino  had  not  neglect- 
ed to  send.  Then  with  all  speed  I  put  on  the 
hooded  garment  of  the  architect,  and  with  the 
false  key  let  myself  out  of  my  own  cell  and 
passed  into  a  cell  that  was  not  occupied,  where 
I  pretended  to  be  busied  with  some  drawing 
which  Sansovino  had  left  there  that  morning. 
The  jailer  going  his  rounds  looked  first  through 
the  wicket  into  my  cell,  and  seeing  me,  as  he 
supposed,  stretched  on  my  bed,  the  door  safely 
locked,  and  the  priest  on  his  knees,  next  came 
to  the  open  door  of  the  cell  where  I  sat,  and 
was  surprised  to  see  the  architect  there.  Never- 
theless, imagining  that  the  other  jailer  had  let 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  315 

me  in  during  his  watch,  as  I  handed  him  the 
architect's  passport,  my  face  shrouded  in  the 
hood  and  my  figure  sufficiently  resembling  that 
of  Sansovino,  he  suspected  nothing  and  oblig- 
ingly let  me  out.  This  was  the  crucial  mo- 
ment ;  but  my  peril  was  not  over,  for  I  had  to 
pass  across  the  Bridge  of  Sighs  and  through  the 
Ducal  Palace.  Here,  indeed,  I  knew  that  Titian 
awaited  me,  and  indeed  his  was  one  of  the  first 
figures  that  1  saw  as  I  entered  the  palace.  But 
so  eminent  a  man  could  not  stand  in  a  public 
place  long  without  attracting  attention,  and  he 
was  surrounded  by  a  group  of  men,  of  whom  he 
had  been  vainly  striving  to  rid  himself.  Not 
daring  to  approach,  I  stood  aloof,  but  the  in- 
stant that  Titian  saw  me  he  exclaimed  :  "  Ah, 
there  is  Sansovino  !  I  must  have  him  to  dinner 
with  me  to-night,"  and  with  scant  ceremony  to 
the  others,  he  thrust  his  arm  through  mine  and 
hurried  me  through  the  halls  and  down  the 
Giant's  Staircase.  Yet  still  we  were  not  safe, 
for  as  we  went  we  were  spied  by  Aretino,  who 
fell  a-gaping  with  wonder,  crying  that  he  had 
just  come  from  the  library,  where  he  had  left 
Sansovino,  yet  here  he  was.  Titian  tried  to 
push  by  him,  but  he  stuck  to  him,  saying  that 


310  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

since  it  was  his  good  fortune  to  have  found  him, 
he  was  minded  to  go  home  with  him  and  listen 
to  the  playing  of  his  lovely  daughter.  In  this 
crisis  Bembo  came  to  our  aid,  for  he  had  sta- 
tioned himself  between  the  two  columns  of  the 
Piazzetta  to  watch,  and  seeing  the  plight  we 
were  in,  he  rushed  forward  and,  affecting  a 
great  fondness  for  Aretino,  whom,  however,  he 
could  not  abide,  he  begged  him  to  come  to  his 
rooms  and  read  his  last  comedy  to  a  company  of 
literati  there  assembled.  And  Aretino,  greatly 
flattered,  allowed  himself  to  be  led  off.  Despite 
the  danger  1  was  in,  I  laughed  when  I  thought 
of  the  joke,  and  I  wondered  whether  Bembo 
found  others  to  listen  with  him  to  the  play  ;  and 
then  for  the  first  time  I  knew  how  much  he 
loved  me,  since  he  was  willing  to  submit  to 
such  penance  for  my  sake.  At  the  Riva  we 
found  Titian's  gondola  in  waiting  with  Orazio 
and  a  worthy  young  gentleman  of  the  Cadore 
country,  betrothed  to  Lavinia— for  Titian  would 
not  trust  to  the  silence  of  his  servants — and 
these  young  men  rowed  us  out  to  Chioggia, 
where  was  a  ship  setting  sail  for  Constanti- 
nople, in  which,  being  supplied  with  funds 
by  my  friends,  I  took  passage,  calling  down 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  317 

the  blessings  of  Heaven  on  the  heads  of  my 
preservers. 

They  promised  to  inform  yon  of  my  rescue, 
but  urged  me  not  to  write  either  to  you  or  them, 
as  by  so  doing  I  might  endanger  all  their  lives. 
Wherefore  for  a  time  I  kept  silence.  But  at 
Constantinople,  whom  should  I  meet  but  my 
pupil,  Hieronyrrms  Chrysolarus,  who  was  over- 
joyed to  see  me  safe,  and  fell  upon  his  knees, 
begging  me  to  forgive  his  desertion,  which  I 
.readily  did,  having  compassion  on  the  weak- 
ness of  flesh,  and  knowing  in  what  peril  he 
stood.  Moreover,  he  has  amply  retrieved  his 
fault,  for  no  son  could  be  more  loving  and  dute- 
ous than  he.  I  abode  with  him  many  months 
in  Constantinople,  and  from  thence,  being  con- 
sumed with  such  hunger  of  heart  to  lay  eyes 
on  you  that  I  could  in  no  wise  restrain  myself, 
I  wrote  you  under  an  assumed  name,  but  in 
such  guise  that  I  thought  you  must  under- 
stand, begging  you  to  .join  me.  Not  daring  to 
compromise  my  dear  friends  in  Venice  by  send- 
ing the  letter  to  them,  I  sent  it  to  Genoa,  in 
care  of  Francesco  de  Rovere,  of  the  family  of 
Pope  Julian.  For  I  argued  that  as  that  pontiff 
had  befriended  me  on  account  of  service  done 


318  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

him  in  reference  to  the  Borgia  poison,  you 
might  have  sought  the  patronage  of  his  fam- 
ily, and  if  not,  for  the  sake  of  that  service  they 
might  be  minded  to  find  you  and  deliver  the 
letter.  But  having  waited  a  whole  year  and 
no  answer  coming  from  you,  I  began  to  despair 
of  the  letter  having  reached  you  ;  and  seeing 
myself  observed  in  the  street  one  day,  and  fol- 
lowed by  a  stranger  habited  like  a  Venetian,  I 
feared  lest  the  letter  might  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  my  enemies  and  that  I  was  spied  upon. 
Therefore,  though  I  had  shaken  off  this  fol- 
lower, I  was  ill  at  ease,  and  Chrysolarus  like- 
wise, so  that  we  travelled  together  to  India, 
passing  through  many  strange  lands,  and 
finally  settled  in  this  place,  which  we  judged 
remote  enough  to  free  us  from  all  danger. 
Situate  on  a  spur  of  the  Himalaya,  the  air  is 
salubrious,  and  we  are  accommodated  in  a  well- 
ordered  house  with  native  servants,  and  have 
built  up  a  reputation  as  wise  physicians,  so 
that  we  have  an  extended  practice,  Chrysolarus 
travelling  widely  at  the  call  of  the  wealthy 
princes  and  nabobs.  But  I  bide  quietly,  devot- 
ing myself  to  my  experiments,  and  happy  there- 
in, excepting  that  I  long  for  you,  my  dear  son  ; 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  319 

wherefore  I  beseech  of  you  that  you  so  arrange 
your  affairs  that  you  come  out  to  me,  whether 
for  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time,  and  if  you  are  in 
need  of  money  to  defray  the  expense  of  the 
journey,  and  will  write  me  how  it  can  reach 
you,  I  will  send  it  to  you.  The  messenger 
whereby  I  send  this  is  most  trusty.  He  is  a 
Venetian  sailor  who  fell  sick  of  a  fever,  and  was 
left  in  Bombay  to  die  ;  but  Chrysolarus  chanc- 
ing to  be  in  the  city  at  the  time,  heard  of  his 
case,  and  caused  him  to  be  brought  to  our  home 
in  a  palanquin,  where  I  nursed  him  back  to 
health  ;  for  which  service  he  has  sworn  to  seek 
out  your  whereabouts  and  deliver  into  your 
hands  this  letter,  and  failing  in  that,  to  give  it 
most  secretly  to  Orazio  Vecelli.  And  so  I  trust 
it  to  his  gratitude  and  sagacity  and  rest  my 
vindication  with  time,  which  trieth  every  man's 
work,  praying  God  as  I  did  the  night  I  was  con- 
demned to  die  : 

"  Ab  hoste  maligno  defende  me, 
In  hora  mortis  mcse  voca  me, 
Ut  cum  sanctis  suis  laudem  te, 
In  ssecula  saeculorum.    Amen." 

And  for  thee,  dear  son,  I  leave  my  benedic- 


320  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

tion,  though  our  day  has  been  stormy.     Noc- 
tern  quietam  concedet  Dominum. 

Your  loving  father, 

GIOVANNI  ZANELLI. 

To  Angelo's  mind  all  problems  were  solved, 
all  barriers  swept  away  ;  but  not  so  for  the  con- 
tessa.  When  he  returned  and  told  her  the  se- 
cret which  her  discerning  eyes  had  long  ago 
discovered,  and  announced  his  intention  to  set 
out  upon  another  quest,  her  heart  was  torn  with 
anguish.  She  could  not  crush  his  hopes  that 
evening,  but  after  he  had  kissed  her  good-night 
she  took  her  Cousin  Faustina's  letter  and  the 
missing  leaves  which  had  been  cut  from  the 
alchemist's  diary  down  to  his  laboratory,  where 
Van  was  sitting,  and,  patiently  translating  them 
for  him,  submitted  the  question  of  Dr.  Zanellr  s 
sanity  to  his  judgment. 

She  was  not  prepared  for  the  result ;  for  Van 
first  sprang  from  his  chair  and  excitedly  paced 
the  room  ;  then  as  she  concluded  with  the 
alchemist's  description  of  his  discovery  of  the 
antidote  for  the  plague,  he  fairly  shouted  : 

"  Maniac !  All  who  suspected  him,  perse- 
cuted him,  tried  and  condemned  him  were 


SHREDS  AND  PATCHES.  321 

maniacs.  He  was  the  only  sane  physician  of 
his  time  ;  he  was  a  martyr  to  science,  a  tremen- 
dous genius.  Do  you  know  what  he  did  ?  He 
anticipated  the  discoveries  of  modern  bacteriol- 
ogy. He  did  not  quite  understand  the  entire 
import  of  his  discovery  ;  but  if  they  had  not 
meddled  v/ifch  him,  if  they  had  left  him  in  peace 
in  this  laboratory,  instead  of  hounding  him  to 
ignominy  and  death,  he  would  have  saved  the 
city,  and  the  latest  discovery  of  modern  science 
would  have  been  announced  three  centuries  ago. ' ' 

The  contessa  flitted  from  the  room  to  the  bal- 
cony, where  her  son  was  looking  far  out  toward 
the  Adriatic.  Her  heart  was  full  of  remorse 
for  her  part  in  the  drama,  which  she  had  acted 
in  all  good  faith,  and  she  confessed  all  unre- 
servedly. 

"  Can  you  forgive  me  ?  Will  she  forgive 
me  ?"  she  asked  anxiously  as  Angelo  drew  her 
closely  to  him. 

"  If  she  loves  me,  there  will  be  nothing  to  for- 
give," he  replied.  "  She  will  understand  that 
when  she  thought  you  were  building  an  im- 
penetrable wall  between  us  you  were  in  real- 
ity undermining  the  crumbling  stones  which 
blocked  the  doorway  to  our  happiness." 


322  WITCH  WINNIE  IN  VENICE. 

Did  she  love  him,  and  did  Angelo  find  his 
Nellie  Zanelli  ?  'Tis  a  question  the  author 
hopes  to  answer  some  day  ;  but  she  must  bid 
her  reader  farewell  for  the  present,  for  this 
second  quest  of  Angelo's  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  story  of  the  old  alchemist  or  of  Witch 
Winnie  in  Venice. 


THE  END. 


flURST  &  COMPANY'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNQ  PEOPLB 
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and  Dee  Tucker.  The  room-mate 
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Vacation  with 

the  Tucker  Twins 

This  volume  is  alive  with  experiences  of  these  fas- 
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Books  by  the  same  author  will  be  eager  for  this  volume. 

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63  Illustrated  by  ARTHUR  0.  SCOTT 

Cloth  Bound. 


Here  and  There  with  Paul 
and  Peggy 

Across  the  Continent  with 
Paul  and  Peggy 

Through  the  Yellowstone 
with  Paul  and  Peggy 


HERE-AND'THERE 

WITH 
PAUL-AND-PEGGY 


•  er<ct  «  SCOTT 


These  are  delightfully  written  stories  of  a  vivacious 
pair  of  twins  whose  dearest  ambition  is  to  travel.  How 
they  find  the  opportunity,  where  they  go,  what  their 
eager  eyes  discover  is  told  in  such  an  enthusiastic  way 
that  the  reader  is  carried  with  the  travellers  into  many 
charming  places  and  situations. 

Written  primarily  for  girls,  her  brothers  can  read 
these  charming  stories  of  School  Life  and  Travel  with 
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By  NELL  SPEED 

Cloth.    Illustrated, 

Molly     Brown's     Freshman 
Days 

Would   you   like  to   admit   to   your   cir-' 
cle   of  friends  the  most  charming,  of  col- 
lege   girls?       Then    seek    an    introduction 
to   Molly    Brown.      You   will   find   the   bag- 
agemaster,    the    cook,    the    Professor    of 
Inglish  Literature  and  the   College   Presi- 
dent in  the  same  company. 

Molly   Brown's   Sophomore 
Days 

What  is  more  delightful  than  a  re- 
union of  college  girls  after  the  summer 
vacation?  Certainly  nothing  that  pre- 
cedes it  in  their  experience— at  least,  if  all  class-mates  are  as 
happy  together  as  the  Wellington  girls  of  this  story.  Among 
Molly's  interesting  friends  of  the  second  year  is  a  young 
Japanese  girl,  who  ingratiates  her  "humbly"  self  into  every- 
body's affections. 

Molly  Brown's  Junior  Days 

Financial  stumbling  blocks  are  not  the  only  thing  that  hin- 
der the  ease  and  increase  the  strength  of  college  girls.  Their 
troubles  and  their  triumphs  are  their  own,  often  peculiar  to  their 
environment.  How  Wellington  students  meet  the  experiences 
outside  the  class-rooms  is  worth  the  doing,  the  telling  and  the 
reading. 

.  Mo//y  Brown's  Senior  Days 

This  book  tells  of  another  year  of  glad  college  life,  bringing  the 
girls  to  the  days  of  diplomas  and  farewells,  and  introducing 
new  friends  to  complicate  old  friendships. 

Molly  Brown's  Post  Graduate  Days 

"Book    I"    of   this    volume   is    devoted   to    incidents   that   hap- 
pen in  Molly's   Kentucky  home,  and  "Book  II"  is  filled  with  the 
interests  pertaining  to  Wellington  College  and  the  reunions  of  a 
/  post   graduate   year. 

Molly  Brown's  Orchard  Home 

Molly's  romance  culminates  in  Paris — the  Paris  of  art,  of 
music,  of  light-hearted  gaiety — after  a  glad,  sad,  mad  year  for 
Molly  and  her  friends. 

If  you  do  not  know  Molly  Brown  of  Kentucky,  you  are  miss- 
ing an  opportunity  to  become  acquainted  with,  the  most  en- 
chailtinc  cirl  in  collece  flr.tirm. 


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REX  KINGDON  SERIES 

By  GORDON  BRADDOCK 

Cloth  Bound.  Illustrated. 


Rex  Kingdon  of  Ridgewood 
High 

A  new  boy  moves  into  town.  Who  is 
he?  What  can  he  do?  Will  he  make 
one  of  the  school  teams?  Is  his  friend- 
ship worth  having?  These  are  the 
o^ieries  of  the  Ridgewood  High  Students. 
The  story  is  the  answer. 

Rex  Kingdon  in  the  North 
Woods 

Ridgewood  friends  establish  a  camp  fire  in 
there  mystery,  jealousy,  and  rivalry  enter 
fire  their  interest  and  finally  cement  their 


RIDGEWOOD  HIGH 

•  CORDQJCBRADDOCK  • 


Rex  and  some  of  his 
the  North  Woods,  and 
to  menace  their  safety, 
friendship. 


Rex  Kingdon  at  Walcott  Hall 

Lively  boarding   school   experiences  make  this   the  "best  yet" 
of  the  Rex  Kingdon  series. 

Rex  Kingdon  Behind  the  Bat 

The  title  tells  you   what  this   story   is;   it   is   a   rattling  good 
story  about  baseball.     Boys  will  like  it. 

Gordon   Braddock  knows   what   Boys   want  and   how   to   write 
it.      These  stories  make  the  best  reading  you  can  procure. 


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MOTOR  MAIDS  SERIES 

«j  By  KATHARINE  STOKES 

Cloth  Bound.  Illustrated. 


SCHOOLDAYS 

RATHERINE.  STOKES 


THE     MOTOR 
DAYS 


MAIDS'     SCHOOL 


Billie  Campbell  was  just  the  type  of  ? 
a  straightforward,  athletic  girl  to  be  suc-( 
cesful  as  a  practical  Motor  Maid.  Shell 
took  her  car,  as  she  did  her  class-mates, 
to  her  heart,  and  many  a  grand  good  tim« 
did  they  have  all  together.  The  road  over 
which  she  ran  her  red  machine  had  many 
an  unexpected  turning. 

THE    MOTOR    MAIDS    BY    PALM 
AND  PINE 

Wherever  the  Motor  Maids  went  there 
were  lively  times,  for  these  were  com- 
panionable girls  who  looked  upon  the 
world  as  a  vastly  interesting  place  full 
of  unique  adventures. 

THE  MOTOR  MAIDS  ACROSS  THE  CONTINENT 

It  is  always  interesting  to  travel,  and  it  is  wonderfully  en- 
tertaining to  see  old  scenes  through  fresh  eyes.  It  is  that 
privilege,  therefore,  that  makes  it  worth  while  to  join  the 
Motor  Maids  in  their  first  'cross-country  run. 

THE    MOTOR   MAIDS   BY   ROSE,    SHAMROCK   AND 
THISTLE 

South  and  West  had  the  Motor  Maids  motored,  nor  could  their 
education  by  travel  have  been  more  wisely  begun.  But  now  a 
speaking  acquaintance  with  their  own  country  enriched  their 
anticipation  of  an  introduction  to  the  British  Isles.  How  they 
made  their  polite  American  bow  and  how  they  were  received 
on  the  other  side  is  a  tale  of  interest  and  inspiration. 

THE  MOTOR  MAIDS  IN  FAIR  JAPAN 

In  a  picturesque  villa  among  picturesque  surroundings  the 
Motor  Maids  spend  a  happy  vacation.  The  charm  of  Japan,  —  her 
cherry  blossoms,  her  temples,  her  quaint  customs^  her  polite 
people,  —  is  reflected  in  all  their  delightful  experiences. 

THE  MOTOR  MAIDS  AT  SUNRISE  CAMP 

Most  interesting  of  all  interesting  events  recorded  about  the 
Motor  Maids  are  these  relating  to  their  summer  in  a  mountain 
camp.  The  new  friends  introduced  in  this  book  add  the  final 
touch  of  romance. 

Charmingly  written  books  which  will  delight  all  girls  who 
fire  fond  of  out-door  life  —  and  most  girls  are.  The  trips  taken  by 
these  Motor  Maids  would  envy  any  girl,  yet  you  can  have 
all  the  pleasant  experiences  by  reading  the  stories. 


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HURST  &  COMPANY'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 

GIRL  AVIATORS  SERIES 

By  MARGARET  BURNHAM 


•GIRL  AVIATORS' 

AND  THE 

PHANTOM  AIRSHIP 

•  MARGARET  BUHNHAM  • 
X  /  /  S  /  x/ 


Cloth.     Illustrated. 

The  Girl  Aviators  and  the 
Phantom  Airship 

Roy  Prescott  was  fortunate  in  having  a 
sister  so  clever  and  devoted  to  him  and 
his  interests  that  they  would  share  work 
and  play  with  mutual  pleasure  and  to 
mutual  advantage.  This  proved  especi- 
ally true  in  relation  to  the  manufacture 
and  manipulation  of  their  aeroplane,  and 
Peggy'  won  well  deserved  fame  for  her 
skill  and  good  sense  as  an  aviator.  There 
were  many  stumbling-blocks  in  their  ter- 
restial  path,  but  they  soared  above  them 
all  to  ultimate  success. 

The  Girl  Aviators  on  Golden  Wings 

That  there  is  a  peculiar  fascination  about  aviation  that  wins 
and  holds  girls  enthusiasts  as  well  as  boys  is  proved  by  this 
tale.  On  golden  wings  the  girl  aviators  rose  for  many  an  ex- 
citing flight,  and  met  strange  and  unexpected  experiences. 

The  Girl  Aviators'  Sky  Cruise 

To  most  girls  a  coaching  or  yachting  trip  is  an  adventure. 
How  much  more  perilous  an  adventure  a  "sky  cruise"  might  be 
is  suggested  by  the  title  and  proved  by  the  story  itself. 

The  Girl  Aviators9  Motor  Butterfly 

The  delicacy  of  flight  suggested  by  the  word  "butterfly,"  the 
mechanical  power  implied  by  "motor,"  the  ability  to  control 
assured  in  the  title  "aviator,"  all  combined  with  the  personality 
and  enthusiasm  of  girls  themselves,  make  this  story  one  for 
any  girl  or  other  reader  "to  go  cra/y  over." 

Aviation  is  not  confined  to  the  sterner  sex  as  has  been  shown 
by  the  flights  made  by  Harriet  Quimby  :ma  other  daring  young 
women.  Girls  who  are  fond  of  adventure  will  thoroughly 
enjoy  reading  these  books,  wjiich  are  wholesome  and  free 
from  sensationalism. 


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